


The River is Everywhere: Part Two

by beers4fears



Series: The River is Everywhere [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blood and Injury, Din Djarin Removes the Helmet, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Hair-pulling, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Post-Season/Series 01, Revenge, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Space Battles, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, heavy on the plot, mentions of physical abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:34:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23369308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beers4fears/pseuds/beers4fears
Summary: He whispered her name. Two syllables, five letters, chosen by her, for her.“River.”
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The River is Everywhere [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680811
Comments: 32
Kudos: 128





	1. Nevarro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and River's shore leave has come to a close. It's time to start their road trip looking for the child's home world, but not without a few errands first.

He paused before submitting the order.

This was unsettlingly new. He’d never had to cater to anybody else’s daily needs, not in this way, and definitely not since he’d become a hunter. There were suddenly two others he needed to consider. What would the kid need? What about River?

He grumbled to himself at the console, unsure and slightly frustrated.

So far he had listed everything he _thought_ they’d need… cold weather clothes for all of them, ration packs and other shelf-stable foods, bacta in every possible application, spare oxygen filters, a respirator for River, a couple extra blasters (can’t a man indulge a bit?), and an order to refill his tibanna gas canisters, carbonite tank, and potable water.

It was already a massive haul, but he knew he was missing _something._ Probably more than something.

Maybe he could just… ask her?

He sighed, standing up from the pilot’s seat and making his way down the metal rungs of the ladder. River was standing by the tiny galley, warming up a cup of powdered milk for the baby. She was wearing her brown utility pants, the same pair she was wearing when Din had picked her up on Horuz. Din decided he really liked those on her - more than the silver dress, even.

“Almost ready to go?” she asked, peeking up through her curtain of hair.

“Almost.” Din leaned against the wall, stiffly crossing his arms. “I just, um… need your help,” he hummed. Maker, this was so foreign.

River arched an inquisitive eyebrow, its curve mirroring the side of her lips. She couldn’t believe she was already getting this chance - to show him how much she could really contribute, how he wasn’t making a mistake bringing her along. She let her mind swirl with ideas of what he could possibly need her for. She hoped more than anything it was piloting.

“After Nevarro, we’re stopping at a trading outpost to stock up for the trip,” he explained. “I need you to review the supply list.”

She barked a laugh as she poured the warm milk into a tin cup.

“That’s it?” she shook her head, shooting him a teasing look. “You need my help _shopping?”_

Din lightly groaned beneath the helmet. When she put it that way, it sounded so silly, so insignificant and ridiculous. But he really wanted to make sure they were as comfortable as they could be, and didn’t want to risk being in the depths of the Unknown Regions, or shit, Wild kriffing _Space_ , without some key necessity.

“I’ve never…” he mumbled under his breath, “ _done_ anything like this before.”

She huffed playfully, bringing the drink to the kid, who was perched up on the metal kitchen table. His wide eyes blinked curiously over at his father.

“You mean you’ve never explored uncharted space looking for a green, fifty-year-old baby’s home world?” She tossed her hair, leaning against the table and crossing her arms, a teasing mirror of Din’s posture. “Weird.”

He tilted his helmet down at her. She was pushing his buttons, and if he had the time, he’d have gladly let her keep egging him on.

“You know what I mean,” he said, turning to climb back up into the cockpit. “Come on up. Take a look.”

Inside the cockpit, he pivoted the pilot’s chair towards her as she took a seat. She chewed on her bottom lip while she reviewed the rows of typed supplies, nodding and just barely whispering to herself as her eyes darted along the blue holoscreen.

“This is pretty good...” she mumbled, “I _think_. I’m not sure what you already have here, in storage.”

She turned her head up to Din, blinking at him with her brows knit together in concentration.

“I covered the basics, to survive and keep the ship running,” he kneeled next to the chair, “but I was hoping you could help me see what I need for you. And for the kid.”

She nodded, looking back towards the console as she began nibbling on her lip again.

“Don’t bet on being able to make frequent stops. Or any stops,” he reiterated, placing a gloved palm against her knee. “Think about what both of you will need to be comfortable, potentially for several weeks.”

He exited the cockpit, coming to sit with his founding as River worked.

\---

The ship was more responsive than it had been in a long time. It was almost as if the Razor Crest needed the break as much as Din did. The mechanics in Canto Bight had really outdone themselves. A hyperdrive finally operating above 62% capacity? Fucking incredible.

Nevarro hung in place, just beyond the transparisteel windows of the cockpit. It was a dusty grey orb, covered by zig-zagged patterns of dead lava flows.

River and the kid sat in the co-pilot’s seat, watching as Din navigated them down to the surface. It was practiced, familiar work.

A fuzzy blue hologram popped up on the comms array. A middle-aged man with a warm, sloping smile appeared, spreading his arms wide in welcome.

“Mando!” he boomed. “Or should I be calling you Din now? Mr. Djarin? Shit, it has _been_ a minute, my friend.”

River stifled a chuckle as the man carried on with his one-sided conversation, feeling Din’s discomfort roll off of him in waves. He garbled on about the baby, someone named Cara, and how the main strip of town had recovered since the Imps fled. Din didn’t utter a peep.

“Who’s this?!” the man asked suddenly, bending at the waist to get a better look at River, barely visible in the co-pilot’s seat behind Din. “Mando… don’t tell me you’re having _too_ much fun with your quarries… I did tell you we can go to the Twi'lek healing baths any time you--”

“ _Karga,”_ Din spat, cutting him off. “I’m about to break atmo. I’ll be planetside in twenty. Same cantina?”

The man nodded, grinning mischievously through the feed. River saw Din squeezing his hands around the flight controls, gripping so tight that the leather of his gloves audibly strained.

“Alright, shiny,” the man chuckled. “See you soon. Leave the ship unlocked and my crew will come unload.”

The feed disappeared, shrinking back into the comms array.

River blinked through her smirk, waiting to see if Din would offer up anything before she asked. He was silent as usual.

“Din…” she leaned forward playfully. “Who the _hells_ was that?”

He shook his helmet side to side just barely, smoothly guiding the ship through the wispy clouds of Nevarro’s atmosphere.

“Greef Karga. One of the high-ups in the Bounty Hunter’s Guild.”

River made a silent _oh_ with her lips, sitting back to bounce the baby in her lap.

This was about to be very interesting.

\---

For how much had happened over the past few months, it was almost strange being back on Nevarro. It stirred up a bittersweet feeling deep in Din’s gut, sloshing its way up his throat as he walked alone to the cantina. He hadn’t decided yet which was more prominent - the sweetness and comfort of a past life, of old friends, of battles won, or the acrid burn of regret, of loss, of the galaxy telling him his place was _not here._ Each stomp of his boots reminded him of the emptiness below the planet’s dusty crust, the vacant underground covert that his brothers and sisters had been forced to abandon.

He pressed forward anyway.

He’d left River and the baby aboard the Crest, with a borrowed blaster and explicit instructions to lock the kid away as soon as the Guild crew came in to collect the quarries. Din was going to handle telling Greef why River was on his ship, very much unfrozen, and living as his… partner? He hadn’t landed on the language yet.

She would’ve been safer taking him up on his offer to settle on a different planet, to start her life over - again - out from under Rhet’s thumb. He would’ve been able to visit her, though not as often as he would’ve liked. The thought of only seeing her for a few hours at a time, weeks or months apart, dumped icy cold water into his chest. Equally chilling was the thought of her meeting someone else, of realizing a life with a man with no home, one who could never show her his face, was one she didn’t want anymore.

The cantina was bustling with midday activity - bar flies and escorts just starting their routines, rookie mercs looking for leads, shopkeepers taking a late lunch. Everything was exactly as he remembered, despite how much had changed within him.

“Mando!” Greef hollered from his usual booth, cheeks straining over his big grin, flushed from his slight drunkenness.

Din unclipped his rifle and took a seat across the booth, as he had done so many times before. He placed a large bundle of fobs on the table.

Greef greedily chuckled, deep and low in his chest, as he looked through the delivery. He nodded and counted to himself as he calculated payment.

“Since I know you won’t let me buy you a drink,” he started, not looking up from his work with the fobs, “why don’t we just skip the flirting and formalities and you tell me why you’ve got Tozer’s quarry in your cockpit.”

Din kept his posture perfectly relaxed, thankful for the helmet to hide his face.

“I ran out of carbonite.”

Greef nodded, letting a crooked smile spread across his face. His eyes met the stern gaze of Din’s T visor.

“So then you won’t mind if I comm over to my crew and tell them to bring her in,” he said, unblinking and direct.

Din instinctively shot his hand down to his side-arm, letting his fingers graze over the metal handle. Greef chuckled, low and rumbling again, as he shook his head teasingly.

“Mando… you keeping your jobs as pets is getting a little passé, don’t you think?”

Din didn’t allow himself to relax. He tipped his helmet down, letting his lack of amusement be known.

“I’ve provided you with more than enough quarries to keep you fed and watered,” he contended. “And I have this for you.”

Din withdrew his hand from his blaster and set down a small pouch, filled with a mix of currencies. Greef raised his eyebrows, sitting back against the booth as he rifled through the contents.

“Is this an early Life Day present?” he joked. “Mando, you _shouldn’t_ have."

Din rolled his eyes beneath the helm.

“It’s your cut,” he huffed, “of Mesa Lawson and Rhet Tozer’s bounties. You don’t even have to pay out your crew. I handled it.”

Greef sighed, pocketing the bundle of credits. With cash in hand, Din knew he wouldn’t ask too many questions.

“I’ll bet you did. I shouldn’t be surprised…” he trailed off, taking a long sip of his drink.

Din clenched his fists beneath the table. He was beyond ready for this interaction to be over, to get the fuck out of there, to check in on the baby and River, to get his payment and be gone as quickly as he showed up. Greef had been generous to give him another chance at Guild work, but still, the man could grind his gears to a fine dust.

“Surprised by what?” he humored him.

Greef drained the rest of his cup, setting it dramatically against the table’s surface.

“That you can never seem to follow the rules.”

\---

The cargo hold was fucking _massive_ when it wasn’t racked full of frozen quarries. River was feeling restless waiting for Din to come back, unable to sit still in one place. She resorted to sweeping the newly revealed floors, followed by a thorough scrub. When he still hadn’t returned, and she was still antsy, she started doing push ups and sit ups in the open space, hearing her rhythmic breath echo off the smooth steel walls. It felt good to sweat, to methodically count reps and sets, to try and shake loose a few days of drinking and eating indulgently.

The kid was entertained by it, constantly climbing on top of her and trying to mimic her motions.

A speeder whizzed up just outside the hatch ramp, kicking up grey dust as it slid to a screeching stop. River picked her head up from her push up position, squinting into the blinding sunlight to see who was approaching.

She saw the telltale glint of Din’s armor shining in the brilliant afternoon light - and another person… a human woman, in combat gear. Her hair was dark, braided close to her scalp on one side, and she had a circle of thick, vertical bars tattooed around her bicep. A blaster rifle was slung heavy across her back.

She looked tough as shit. River fought the squirming jealousy wiggling its way through her insides, wondering if Din and this woman had a romantic history. She looked like someone he would have a lot in common with.

The baby abandoned River’s exercising and waddled down the open ramp, coming to greet his father and this mystery friend.

“Look, she’s already training,” the woman said, crossing her muscled arms over her chest. She smirked, winking over at Din as he picked up his foundling. “And she’s cute, too.”

Din tipped the helmet back with an inaudible sigh of exasperation as he clomped up the ramp, its rattling even louder as it reverberated through the hollowed-out hold.

River rose to her feet, swiping her forearm across the beads of sweat running down her brow.

“River. This is Cara,” Din said, nodding over to his friend.

So that’s who Greef was talking about. Cara grinned at River, appraising her as her eyes traveled up and down, before shaking her hand - maybe a little too firm. Din returned to the speeder, unloading a heavy canvas bag with a loud clang.

“So, River,” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “You got a blaster?”

River looked down to where she’d left her holster and Din’s weapon, tossed to the side so she could exercise with more freedom to move. She nodded back up to Cara with a curious expression.

“Good. Put that on, and help us set this shit up,” she patted River on the shoulder, cocking her head back outside.

Putting on her holster, River joined Cara as they rounded the corner of the Crest, seeing Din carrying the heavy canvas bag through the dust. When he was about twenty meters from the side of the ship, he dropped it down with a metallic clatter and untied the top. It was full of old canisters, speeder parts, dented durasteel plates, all junk. The three of them began pulling pieces out, inspecting the shape and weight.

“Are we-- wait, are you guys gonna teach me how to shoot?!” River asked with her eyes wide and sparkling.

“Bingo,” Cara confirmed, puffing out a lighthearted laugh. “The old tin man and I have some experience in this - shooting _and_ training.”

River smiled brightly and nodded, following their lead on placing targets throughout the open plain. They were staggered back in neat rows, set in varying distances from the side of the ship. The baby found a silver coil he particularly liked, chasing it around the field as it rolled over the dust and gravel.

River thought back to when Din had first tried to teach her how to handle a blaster, when they had just pulled away from Hosnian Prime. It was the first time he’d touched her. She felt her heart flip-flop in her chest at the memory, remembering how badly she’d wanted him, how he had clutched her shaking body against his, trembling and bent over the sink.

“How did you two meet?” River asked, trying to tamp down the wild curiosity coloring her voice.

Cara and Din shot a look to each other for a split second, before Din lightly shrugged, letting Cara take the lead.

“We kinda… kicked each others’ asses,” she rolled her eyes, grinning as she remembered. She and Din bantered back and forth, recounting their tense first encounter when Din had landed with the child on Sorgan. He was abrasive, and so was she - until they settled their differences over a cup of soup.

River smiled inwardly. It seemed like Din was the king of bad first impressions - bad impressions followed by amends made over hot liquids.

Cara kept talking, regaling River with their story of saving a krill farming village from Klatooinian raiders. It took her breath away and made her swell with pride for them both.

“I didn’t think our paths would cross again after that,” Cara continued, peeking over at Din as she let an uncharacteristic sweetness creep into her voice. “But here we are. Now he can’t get rid of me.”

Din grunted sarcastically, pulling out his sidearm to start the shooting lesson.

“What?” Cara joked. “People _love_ me! You should be so honored that I’m your friend.”

River stifled a chuckle, following Din’s lead and taking her blaster out of the holster. Cara followed suit just after, shaking her head playfully at Din’s lack of warmth.

“You guys ready?” she asked, taking aim.

“Yeah. Fire,” said Din.

_Pew. Pew. Pew._

Cara and Din hit their marks perfectly, blasting circular holes straight through the metal sheets. River’s, on the other hand, went ricocheting off of a bent blast door panel, pinged wide to knock over a supply crate, then rocketed up again to just barely miss the side of the Crest.

“Shit!” she squeaked, crouching low and ducking her head below her arms.

She exhaled a shaky breath and peeked back up, seeing Din and Cara staring at her, deadpan and unamused.

“Yeah…” Cara said flatly. “We have some work to do.”

River straightened up, dusting herself off, shaking the tension out of her shoulders as she bounced on the balls of her feet.

Cara shook her head in disbelief.

“You said she _ran with the gangs_ on Nar Shaddaa,” she arched an eyebrow towards Din. “And she can’t shoot?”

River opened her mouth to protest, cut off by a loud blast. Din fired another perfect shot, straight into the farthest target.

“Yup,” he answered, short and teasing as he tilted his helmet down towards River. “Gotta teach this city girl a thing or two.”

\---

Her shoulder burned like kriffing hells, a perfect match to the searing burning in her lungs. The fingers in her shooting hand were so stiff she could barely close a fist - and bad timing too, because she really could’ve used it to clobber herself across the head right now. Knocking herself out sounded like more fun than their current activity.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and visibility became too challenging for today’s elementary lesson, Din and Cara turned their decimated blaster range into a makeshift gym. The trio ran agility drills back and forth between the farthest targets, zig-zagging between piles of rubble, lunging and jumping over stacked crates, shot full of holes from their perfect aim.

Sweat poured down River’s brows, stinging her eyes. If she’d known this was on the agenda, she wouldn’t have given herself a headstart with her push ups and sit ups in the cargo hold.

She took her t-shirt off and tucked it into the back of her pants, keeping it handy as a rag for her seemingly infinite perspiration. Working out, outdoors, on a desert planet, sucked hairy monkey-lizard balls. _Hot, hairy monkey-lizard balls_. The absence of sunlight did almost nothing to combat the oppressive heat.

“How are you two doing this in all that gear?!” she panted, wiping her sweaty hands on her hanging t-shirt.

“Because I’m thinking about the reward!” Cara shouted across the field.

River slumped over, resting her palms against her knees as she pulled dusty air into her chest.

“And that would be?”

“SPOTCHKA!” Cara thrust a fist in the air as she bounded over a droid body. “Come on, looks like you could use some.

She waved River along and jogged around the back of the Crest, pulling a glowing blue jug out of her speeder’s underseat compartment.

“It’s probably going to be a little warm, but… nut up.”

Cara took a large swig from the jug, swiping her mouth with the back of her wrist as she passed it over to River.

Din jogged around the corner just as she swallowed her first sip. It was good - slightly sweet, oddly refreshing despite the warmer-than-preferred serving temperature. She raised her eyebrows at Cara, nodding in approval as she tipped the bottle back for more.

“Shoulda known you two would already be drinking,” Din scoffed, his labored breaths rattling and blowing out his vocal modulator. “Come on, bring that inside. Let’s cool off.”

Inside the Crest, Cara and River kept nursing the bottle of spotchka while Din used the refresher. River couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable he had to be underneath all those layers, baking in the unforgiving sun all day. She shivered at the thought of wearing that kind of armor herself, of working as hard as he did without showing even a little bit of exhaustion. He was practically superhuman.

She passed the bottle back to Cara and reclined against the cool, angled steel of the closed hatch door.

“Din told me he’s bringing you to search for the kid’s home world,” Cara said, tipping the bottle back up to her lips.

River nodded, her eyes unfocused, staring off into nothing. “He didn’t want me to come with, I don’t think.”

Cara shot her a confused look.

“He offered to drop me off on whatever planet I wanted, with a stack of credits and a promise to look after me, but…” River shifted, suddenly uncomfortable, “I don’t know. That just seems… _lonely_.”

The spotchka was making her too honest.

Cara took another swig and came to recline next to River, similarly looking up at the grated ceiling of the ship. She passed the bottle sideways to River.

“I think the tin man’s finally realizing being alone isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

A long pause stretched between them as River sipped and marinated on that observation. She didn’t know anything about Din’s past. She wasn’t about to ask Cara about it, but the curiosity had started eating away at the lining of her stomach.

She’d spent a year alone on Horuz, hiding herself from the rest of the galaxy, too afraid to use her real name or let anyone get to know her. She had been wearing armor too, just as thick and impenetrable is Din’s. Armor was survival.

The baby tugged on her pants leg, pulling her attention downwards. They smiled sweetly at each other.

“Kiddo,” Cara cooed as River scooped up the child in free arm, “have you choked anybody with your mind lately?”

River whipped her head over to Cara.

“Has he _what?!”_

Cara rolled her eyes, groaning at the memory. “Little womp rat tried to kill me last time I hung out on this ship. Apparently he’s not too fond of people messing with his dad - even if it’s just arm wrestling.”

River narrowed her eyes at the baby, not fully understanding what Cara was saying.

“He tried to kill you with his mind?"

She nodded and took the bottle back. River shook her head at the child in dumbfounded shock. She’d heard of stuff like this before. Sentient beings - humans and some alien species - who could move objects with their minds. She thought it was an old tall tale, some made-up fantasy that mothers told their children at bedtime. Jedi and Sith, the heroes and the boogeymen. It was mythology. It was war propaganda, actually - Vader and Skywalker. River was convinced neither of them were even real people.

Din emerged from the refresher in a clean set of clothes. His armor had been wiped free of dust, and he smelled like soap. The booze made River’s blush even darker as she drank in the sight of him.

“I was just telling River about the magic hand thing,” Cara smirked, extending the bottle out to Din.

He waved a dismissive hand and she shrugged, taking another pull out of the glass neck.

River returned her eyes to the baby.

“How come I’ve never… why hasn’t he done anything like that with me?” she asked, wide eyes boring into Din’s visor.

His shoulders slumped a bit as he closed the distance between them, bringing his foundling into his arms.

“I don’t like him using his powers. It tires him out. It’s...” he searched for the right word, “concerning.”

Cara shoved the bottle back into River’s grasp, rolling her eyes. “Such a caring father. Consider yourself lucky, girl. That little green nugget is too much of a mystery for my tastes.”

River took another drink, not letting her eyes wander from Din and the baby. She didn’t understand why he’d keep this from her, that the kid he was looking after was… a kriffing _Jedi_ or some shit. She’d gotten herself into some bizarre situations before, but this?

“Remember that time he swallowed a frog whole on Sorgan?” Cara suddenly cracked up.

Din nodded his head with a chuckle, gazing down at the kid with a paternal kind of adoration, visible even through his layers of beskar steel. River leaned back against the closed hatch again, sipping slowly as the two of them reminisced. By the end of their conversation, they’d grown a bit melancholy, talking about two mutual friends - IG and Kuiil. River guessed they had died, and felt her heart sink for them.

Cara turned towards her, taking the bottle and downing the rest in one large swig. She raised the empty jug towards River and Din as she recovered from the afterburn, wincing through it.

“Just be careful on your trip,” she said, her eyes glassy and a little red around the edges. “Let’s not lose anybody else.”

River pushed herself up off the angled wall, feeling her drunkenness hit her all at once. The floor swayed beneath her feet as she wobbled towards Din, steadying herself on his forearm.

“Woah there,” he laughed.

“Thas’what happens when,” she hiccuped, “when you drink after sweating like that.”

Cara shot a knowing look towards Din, feeling their time coming to a close. She pushed the button to lower the ramp, revealing her speeder and a sky full of brilliant stars.

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” she softly smiled. She paused halfway down the ramp, turning back to nod one time at Din.

“Until our paths cross."

Din nodded back, pulling River closer to him with his free arm. The kid yawned in the crook of his elbow.

“Until our paths cross,” he replied.

The hatch sealed up, leaving them in a comfortable, still quietness. River leaned into Din’s side, nuzzling her head into the soft space between his cuirass and his pauldron, where nothing but his clean canvas separated her from his skin.

It was starting to feel like home.

“Let’s get both of you to bed,” he sighed, sounding relaxed and content, as he squeezed her shoulder.

When the kid was tucked into his nook, River took her turn in the refresher, letting the water rinse some of the caked dirt and glowing spotchka from her pores. The ship’s reservoir had warmed a bit in the blistering Nevarro sun, making her shower much more comfortable than usual. She took her time, knowing a refill was coming tomorrow at the trading post. Her thoughts came clearer to her under the spray, focusing bit by bit as her mind returned to her.

She’d known going into this that Din wasn’t a big talker. He had shared almost no details about himself, and even expressed some regret at that. River frowned, turning the knobs and feeling the water slide off her skin. It was wonderful to hear more about his past tonight, and she wanted more.

She wanted to know him. She wanted to know everything about him. Maybe it was time to ask. But she wanted to ask in a way that wouldn’t scare him off, wouldn’t make him retreat further into his armor.

Din was reorganizing his arsenal when she emerged in her nightclothes.

“Feeling better?” he asked over his shoulder.

River hummed a yes and came to lean against the wall next to him. He paused, noticing the inquisitiveness behind her eyes, shining through like sunlight off of water.

“Can you tell me more about him? About the child?” she asked. Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper, like she was asking something she shouldn’t have asked. It made Din’s heart ache.

He nodded, gently closing the blaster safe and guiding River to sit at the galley table. They faced each other, as they did the first morning they spent together, when Din asked for her to detail her horror.

He owed her this. He took a deep breath.

“It’s a long story.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely hope everyone reading is healthy - both physically and mentally.
> 
> Working on this story has been a welcome bright spot in my life - which has been totally turned upside down through all of this craziness. My wish is that reading it brings you some happiness in these uncertain times, if only for a few minutes!
> 
> Be well, and take care of yourselves. <3


	2. Teamwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The adventure (almost) begins. Din and River have left Nevarro and still have one more errand to run before bravely setting off into uncharted space. But something's off at the trading outpost... and Din's feeling a little paranoid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Stefan voice*  
> This chapter's got everything. Early morning sass, domestic fluff, completely made up locations in the Star Wars galaxy, SMUT ALREADY (?!?!), craft projects, heavy dosages of drama and the beginnings of plot.
> 
> Enjoy.

River had decided a couple things.

One, she fully understood the impossible strength Din possessed. Muscles she didn’t know she had were wailing in pain, stiff and overworked just from the act of shooting a blaster. She decided she needed to get better at that. Partly to impress him, and partly to prove to herself that she could do it.

Two, sleeping alone sucked. Lying in her bunk the night before, she was acutely aware of Din’s presence on the other side of the wall. She’d rolled onto her side, curled up and cold in hyperspace, while every cell of her body longed to reach out to him. She fell asleep only briefly, with her fingertips pressed gingerly against the cold durasteel that separated them.

It didn’t feel right.

She found him in the morning at the galley table, cleaning and tuning the blasters they’d used the day prior. She guessed they still had about one or two hours until they hit the trading outpost. That was when their real work would begin.

Din tilted his helmet towards her when she walked up wordlessly, leaning into her touch as she placed her hands on either side of his broad, warm neck. She peered directly into his visor, hoping she could see straight inside, searching with all her might to try and find a flutter of eyelashes as she stroked her fingers between the folds of his cowl.

His hands abandoned their work on the weapons and circled her waist.

“I don’t like sleeping alone,” she quietly noted, pressing just a bit harder against the thick fabric surrounding his neck.

Din sighed, rubbing his thumb in light circles against her abdomen.

“These bunks aren’t made for two,” he commiserated, his voice soft and understanding.

River pulled back with a thrumming half-laugh, cocking an eyebrow.

“Is that a challenge?” she sparked.

Din let out a light chuckle, running his gloved hands down to squeeze the far curves of her hips.

“Keep up that fighting spirit. You’ll need it for your sparring lesson.”

River writhed out of his grasp, shaking her head with wide-eyed protest.

“No fucking way we’re doing that today,” she asserted, crossing her arms over her chest. “You have me sore enough as it is.”

Din raised his hands in defense, biting back the filthy comment he wanted to make about getting her _more sore._

He returned to his work at the table while River backed herself out of the galley, pivoting towards the hallway with determination settling into her aching bones.

The bunks weren’t made for two? Fine. Then no more bunks.

She pulled the mattress pad from her cabin, heaving it into Din’s room. After rearranging some of his crates and an empty shelving unit, she tore his mattress from his own bunk, sliding it flush against hers on the floor.

Dusting her hands off on her pants, she stepped back and critiqued her work.

It was rudimentary, but it was big enough for both of them. She did have the issue of the mattress pads sliding apart in the night - or during other, ahem, _activities_ \- but figured a few sturdy strips of cloth sewn between the two cushions would be enough to hold them together.

She poked her head around the corner of the hallway. Din was still at the table, tinkering with his blasters.

“Do you have a needle and thread anywhere?”

He didn’t look up from his task.

“What are you doing?”

River crossed her arms.

“Troubleshooting,” she shot back. “Do you have any?”

She saw his shoulders shaking up and down just barely as he laughed, too quiet for the modulator to pick up.

“No, _cyar’ika_. But we’ll be at the tradepost soon.”

Shit. Another thing she should’ve added to the list. At least she’d concocted this brilliant plan before they landed, when there was still a chance to remedy her oversight.

She didn’t want to spend another night without him pressed against her. So she was going to fix it.

\---

The trading outpost was bustling. The ingress lanes crawled forward, thick with traffic, as port controllers worked to route ships into open hangars.

The Razor Crest’s comms crackled to life.

“Ship name and manifest?” a surly voice crunched through the speakers, staticky on the edges.

Din pressed a button on the dash to respond, “Razor Crest. A woman and child aboard.”

“Anything to declare?”

“No. Just picking up.”

The line paused for a moment, dead air as the control tower operator checked for an available space.

“Hangar 29B,” the voice rattled before abruptly cutting the comms. The coordinates pinged onto the nav system with a chiming beep, while Din typed up a message to the delivery service, alerting them of the hangar assignment. Everything on the supply list he’d pre-paid for and arranged - plus River’s additions - would be dropped off directly to the Crest while she was topped off.

River stood up and stretched in the cockpit, scratching the kid’s ears as her arms relaxed back down at her sides. He was perched in his pram, floating by his father’s side.

“Fuck, this is gonna take forever,” she complained, rubbing her sore shooting shoulder.

Din shifted in his seat, pivoting the chair towards her in the cramped space.

“Do you want to pilot us down?” he asked, still and stoic behind the beskar.

River reeled. Excitement and nervousness rolled down from her scalp to her fingertips like a bolt of lightning.

“Are you serious?” she hesitated, feeling like half her soul was already jumping out of her skin at the opportunity.

Din nodded, getting up from the chair to let her take a seat. River tentatively lowered herself onto it, its leather still warm from his legs, as he turned it back to face center. He stayed behind her, ready to provide guidance or jump in if needed, though he knew she could do this on her own.

River’s eyes flowed astutely along the blinking displays and navigational controls as she reoriented herself with his setup. She’d only flown his ship once, in a moment of breathless desperation as they escaped the Imperial remnant on Vardos. She was a shaking mess back then, veering around skyscrapers and blaster fire while Din bled on the floor of the cargo hold.

This was very different. It was kind of… easy. Methodical and measured.

“Take that lane over there,” he pointed, “it’ll bring us around closer to the hangar.”

River gripped the steering controls, checking the proximity readouts before smoothly sailing into the next marked traffic lane. The baby cooed happily as he watched her fly.

The backup in this lane was just as bad as any other. River concentrated on pulling forward steadily and slowly, maintaining a safe distance from the ship ahead of her. In brief moments of total standstill, she’d check the fuel level, the engine temperature, the shield integrity, familiarizing herself with the various controls and systems.

A warm, gloved hand grazed her cheek from behind her, tracing down the length of her neck to spread wide across her chest. She melted backwards into the chair, tilting her head back to look up at Din.

“You’re doing incredible,” he said, low and sweet.

River’s eyes fluttered shut as his fingers drew up and down her neck and chest, stroking her until she swore she started to purr.

“And you’re distracting me,” she protested, nuzzling up into his touch.

His hand snaked down to her breast, lightly squeezing as a faint sigh escaped her lips. Heat bloomed in her center, making her knees involuntarily push apart from each other in invitation.

“You piloting my ship is the _sexiest_ fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, voice dark as night through the filter.

He rubbed a thumb over her pebbled nipple, pinching before he drew his hands away. River keened at the loss, wiggling down against the chair to try and relieve some of the building pressure between her legs.

“You gonna do something about it?” she pouted, tossing a simmering look over her shoulder.

“Focus on landing, cyar’ika,” he said, backing up to sit in the co-pilot’s chair behind her. He spread his legs wide in the seat, resting his large hands across the tops of his thighs.

She exhaled an unsteady breath, trying to bring her mind back to the task at hand. Kriffing asshole, she could practically feel the shit-eating smirk he wore under his helmet.

“You’ve made that very difficult,” she mumbled.

A few painfully long minutes later, River successfully navigated the Crest down out of the ingress lane and into the hangar. Din watched intently as she adjusted the thrusters, gradually scaling down the capacity in regular increments until the landing gears had planted themselves firmly against the polished duracrete floor of the parking structure.

“Power down,” Din instructed, “while I go pay the port tax.”

River exhaled and moved through the post-flight routine she remembered from class, shutting down the engines and engaging auxiliary power, even flipping the switch for the hatch ramp so Din didn’t have to bother with it on his way out.

Just as she had sent the pram down ahead of her into the main belly of the ship, Din hoisted himself up over the ledge of the cockpit, pressing a button on his vambrace to close the lid of the child’s floating bassinet. He crowded into her space, pushing her back against the blinking console, pressing his hips hard against her until she was pinned between him and the electronics.

One of his hands came up to her face, digging his fingers underneath her jaw as his thumb brushed over her lips. Fire erupted behind her eyes as she flicked her tongue out, tasting the leather of his glove.

Din shuddered over her, pushing his forefingers into her mouth, watching her pink tongue swirl around the orange tips. With firm confidence, he pressed the pads of them down against her open mouth and said one word.

“ _Bite.”_

River clamped her teeth around the empty ends of his glove’s fingertips, letting a wicked grin streak up her cheeks as he pulled his bare hand free. It tangled up into her raven hair, long and flowing down her back.

He ground his cock against her, as hard as the metal control panel digging into her ass. She spit the glove to the side and slid her hands up towards his cowl and high collar, clawing at the fabric to try and reveal a strip of his skin, something close enough to his lips for her to run her teeth and tongue across.

Din didn’t give her the chance, instead swiftly pulling her arms down and clutching them behind her back. In one fluid motion, he lifted his hips off of her and spun her around, pinning himself against the swell of her ass, bending her over the console. His ungloved hand knotted back up into her hair, unable to resist the silkiness, meeting it with a searing hot force - his warrior’s grip wrapped in gossamer femininity.

River gasped, grinding back against him.

“My _good little pilot_ ,” he grunted, rutting along the curve of her one more time.

“ _Please_ ,” she whined, “show me how good I am.”

He relinquished his vice grip around her wrists, giving her the freedom to reach forward and stabilize her upper body against the flight controls while he forcefully shoved her pants down.

Din tore his other glove off of his hand, tossing it to the side with its match, before slipping two fingers down to River’s slit.

“How,” he growled, “how are you always _so_ wet for me?”

River quaked beneath him, rocking her hips back to try and get more pressure, to try and coax his fingers into slipping inside her walls. Her eyes fluttered open, catching a glimpse of the tiered hangar surrounding them, watching droids and mechanics and outpost staff cycle by, unaware of the scene unfolding in the parked craft.

“You gonna fuck me up here, for everybody to see?” she growled over her sore shoulder, licking and biting her flushed lips as Din sunk his fingers up to the second knuckle.

“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do,” he rumbled, pumping his fingers in and out of her, pulling her head back by the hair every time she made a sweet little noise for him.

It was low risk, he’d realized. Nobody was paying attention, let alone able to get a clear view into the Crest. But oh, the fun he was having, playing into the illusion they shared that this was less private than it really was.

He suddenly tore his hands from her, making quick work of undoing his belt and pants and freeing his throbbing cock, running the engorged tip through her glistening folds. She shook and spasmed beneath him as he shoved himself in to the base, pausing when he bottomed out inside of her.

“F-fuuuck,” she whimpered, pulsing and fluttering around him as he sat totally still, sheathed inside her wet heat, a fistful of her hair snarled in his deadly hand.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispered, so soft, like a secret he didn’t want anyone to hear, followed by the brutal slap of his open palm against her ass.

River let out a tortured, delicious yelp, clenching her hands around the curved top of the nav display, trying to keep herself grounded as Din started pounding into her. He showed no mercy, slamming his cock so fucking hard into her that she knew she’d bruise, could already feel the edges of his leg plates marking the flesh of her thighs. She reveled in it, imagining how she’d be reminded of this every time she moved for the next few days.

Din wanted to mark her. He wanted the entire kriffing galaxy to know that this gorgeous, fiery, intelligent, brave, _strong_ woman was all his, devoted to him by some incomprehensible miracle, bent over on the flight deck of his ship, split open and screaming out for him. He could feel her walls tightening around his length, the telltale squeeze and steadying announcing her oncoming peak.

His fingers reached down to her clit, swiping fervent patterns over the bundled nerves, hardened and slick against his touch. She choked out some broken, trembling sound, repeating his name - his _real fucking name_ \- mixed with swears and desperate pleading.

She came, hard and convulsing, her body vibrating against him, around him, under him, so intense and so unbelievably fast, surging blinding electricity through his every vein.

Din spilled into her, hitching his hips deeper into her than he thought possible, pushed so far inside that he couldn’t believe there was anything left to bury himself in. Their aftershocks twitched through them, wrenching more stuttered breaths and moans from their chests as their heart rates slowed to a less frenetic pace.

He carefully withdrew, hissing as he pulled out of her clamped walls, and helped her pull herself back together. River could already feel small trickles of his cum leaking out of her, soaking into her underwear as a warm, steady reminder of his passion.

She kissed the tips of his fingers as he traced them along her lips and chin.

“Let’s get that sewing kit you wanted,” he said, calm and gentle, tenderly placing a hand on her lower back to guide her out of the cockpit. “I think you’ll like this place. Just stay close.”

River smiled to herself as she climbed down the ladder, excited to have Din show her around. With a few adjustments on his vambrace, the pram cover locked tight and followed them out of the Crest. Technicians had already begun attaching hoses to the ship, preparing to refuel and refill according to Din’s orders.

Outside the hangar, stalls and shops were arranged in rings of concentric circles, organized by the goods and services they specialized in. River’s eyes sparkled as she took in the scene, admiring booths full of beautiful jewelry, art and artifacts, simmering pots of stews and brew kettles full of ale, the occasional salon or tattoo parlor.

It felt like being on Nar Shaddaa, in the shopping district. Species of all shapes and colors buzzed by, busy with their errands and dealings, buying and selling and trading in so many languages that River lost count after she’d identified six different dialects.

They found a textile stall with giant racks of fabrics, running the gamut from utilitarian canvas to gauzy chiffon, delicate beaded lace and pre-conditioned leather upholstery. River weaved through the narrow aisles, running her hands across the varying textures as she browsed. A female Bothan approached; white and grey fur framed her wise, regal face, braided down each side and adorned with silver hoops.

“Is there anything I can help you find?”

River smiled politely at her, turning away from the pale blue-dyed wampa pelt she’d been stroking.

“I’m looking for a few different gauges of sewing needles, and some durable thread,” she nodded, admiring the custom coat the shop owner had draped across her sloping shoulders.

The Bothan turned on her heel, motioning for River to follow her back to a set of drawers in the corner of the store. Din and the sealed pram followed closely behind.

The Bothan procured a glass vial full of durasteel needles, all of varying lengths and shapes, and dug through another drawer for a spool of wiry black thread. She presented them to River, who nodded in approval.

“This should do the trick,” River hummed, before pursing her lips and searching the nearby walls for something else she didn’t think about...

The Bothan placed the glass vial and the spool in a brown bag, peering over at River and Din, noticing her wistful looks around the shop.

“Anything else you need, dear?”

River pointed up towards a bolt of soft burgundy fabric.

“Could I get a meter of that as well?”

Din turned his helmet towards her. She could feel his inquisitiveness through the beskar.

“Just a meter?” she said, curious at the small amount.

River nodded, the sparkle in her eyes as captivating as the sequined fabric hung behind the register. The Bothan smiled, flitting her gaze down towards the locked pram, then back up to River and Din.

“Of course, dear.”

 _Ah._ He understood now. She was going to make something for the baby. A warmth spread through his chest, emanating through him like the gentle comfort of an embrace - a good one, one without the armor in the way.

Once the shop droid had cut their purchase from the roll, the Bothan neatly folded it into a tidy square, tucking it into the brown bag with the rest of River’s supplies. Din settled the bill while River moved on to the next food stall, picking up what would be their last fresh meal for potentially several weeks.

When Din emerged from the Bothan’s shop, something didn’t feel… right. He sensed something, the unsettling feeling of being watched. Resting his palm on the butt of his blaster, his eyes scanned their surroundings, keeping himself hyper-aware of River’s location at the food stall’s pickup window.

He could hear her thanking the cook, the rustling of the bag and plastoid containers as they were handed off to her, her footsteps as she approached him.

A flash of a long, swirling coat caught his eye. _There._ Off near the entrance to another hangar, a woman in a hooded cloak muttered into her comlink, eyes flitting over to Din, River, and the sealed pram.

“I hope you’re in the mood for dumplings, because --”

 _Shit,_ he looked away for one fucking second and the cloaked woman was gone.

Din sprung into action and gripped River by the wrist, pulling her hard enough that the bag full of food slipped through her fingers. They dashed through the marketplace so fast that she could barely keep up. Terror and confusion rose strongly in her.

“What’s going--”

“ _Quiet,”_ he spat, pushing past unsuspecting shoppers and passerby. “Hurry.”

They vaulted full-speed towards the Razor Crest, its ramp already lowered as a droid unloaded crates full of their pre-ordered supplies into the cargo hold. Din shoved River, the brown bag, and the closed pram inside before throwing the droid from the belly of the ship. He raised the ramp, sealing them inside as River heaved with exhaustion and confusion.

The droid was beeping and banging against the hull, screeching repeatedly about needing a delivery authorization.

“Go up to the cockpit and close the door,” he said over his pauldron. “Bring the child.”

River’s eyes were as wide as the kid’s as she hurriedly guided his bassinet up the ladder. When Din heard the soft woosh of the flight deck doors sealing, he unholstered his blaster and reopened the hatch, pointing it at the droid as he scanned the hangar for any suspicious followers.

The droid beeped and trilled frantically, extending out its keypad for Din to sign off on the delivery. With a forceful punch of his thumb against the display, the droid stuttered out a beep in confirmation and hightailed out of the hangar, back to the distribution center.

When the hatch door was sealed once again, Din commed up through his vambrace to River.

“Engage pre-flight,” he barked. “We need to get out of here.”

River swallowed a hard lump in her throat, going through her usual checklist. This felt too familiar, too much like Vardos. She thanked the gods nobody was hurt.

But what the fuck did he see?

Din ratchet strapped down the supply crates while the engines rumbled to life, then bolted up the ladder to get them off this rock as quickly as he could.

River was already finishing up her work, pulling the kid against her chest as she moved back into the co-pilot’s chair, buckling herself in with swift hands.

Din wasted no time. He lifted the Crest out of the hangar, not bothering to radio down for clearance into an egress lane. Instead, he tore ahead of the lines of exiting ships, zipping expertly around whizzing traffic enforcement droids, dodging oncoming and intersecting craft without showing even a drop of panic or doubt.

As soon as they broke the atmosphere, he hastily punched in hyperspace calculations, slamming the lever forward to watch the stars stretch and swirl around them.

He sat there for a moment, hands on his knees, with his helmet hung low.

“Din, what-”

“Someone was following us,” he said, voice pinched as he tightened his hands into fists. “I don’t know who they are.”

He stood up from the chair abruptly, pacing around the cramped space. The kids ears had tucked back against his head, unsure why his father was acting like this, feeding off of his stress and worry.

“I didn’t -- shit, we need to check for a fucking tracker,” he stammered. “Why didn’t -- fuck, I should’ve --”

“Hey,” River said, calm and even from her spot. She rose to her feet, propping the baby against her hip. “Stop. Tell me what to do and I’ll help.”

Din took a breath, spinning around to crush River against his breastplate with one strong arm, while the other cradled the back of the child’s head. They stayed like that for a moment, silent in the vacuum of hyperspace. Gods, he wanted the armor off, wanted to feel the living breathing flesh of her against him, wanted to plant a reassuring kiss against the kid’s forehead.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to either of you. Ever.”

River tilted her head up to peer into his visor, still searching so hard for that flutter of eyelashes she knew was in there.

“What can I do?” she said, putting on her best brave voice for him, choosing to be strong enough to reel him back in to his usual even-keeled self.

He let up on his grip, turning his head back towards the nav display.

“You search the inside of the ship. Check everywhere, especially where that droid was. Get the mag drill, open up the floorboards and the wall panels. Check the ceiling grates. Everything, River.”

She set the kid on the copilot’s chair and faced him again, setting her hands on her hips with a determined nod.

“I’m going to stay up here,” he continued, “and try to find a place to land and search the exterior. I’ll comm down before we drop out of hyperspace.”

The monotonous work of unscrewing a panel, searching, and reattaching it gave River the chance to calm down, really think about what she was getting herself into.

When Din sat her down at the table and told the story of how he had acquired the child - though “acquired” sounded too… militant considering their bond - she had realized quickly that this journey was going to be dangerous for more reasons than just a lack of defined hyperspace routes. Maybe getting into uncharted space was exactly what they needed, maybe the difficulty of navigating it would be their biggest advantage against all the enemies Din had made.

The person spying on them was probably Imperial, some crony of the nameless Client who’d put the hit on the kid’s head in the first place. Knowing what she did about his powers, she understood why they were after the little green menace. They must have wanted him as a weapon of their revenge against the Republic.

She bristled, resting back on her knees after screwing another panel back into place.

The kid had whined enough to be let down the ladder, not wanting to give up the chance to “play” with River as she used her tool to search for a possible tracking device. He was sitting with her while she worked, playing with the small silver ball he loved so much, babbling merrily every time she engaged the whirring drill bit.

This little nugget - a weapon of revenge, of war… stolen back from those vile Imps by this Mandalorian bounty hunter, this masked man made of equal parts violence and honor. It was the most unlikely thing in the galaxy, and yet here they were.

Din’s voice chimed over the loudspeakers, alerting their oncoming drop.

“Thirty seconds. Brace yourself and hold the kid.”

She scooted along the floor towards him, pulling him into her lap as she held onto a support railing with her less sore arm. A moment later, they were lurching forwards, sending the silver ball rolling out of the baby’s grubby hands.

He shrieked playfully, chasing after it as the ship gently pulled down to whatever mystery planet Din had decided to use a temporary pit stop.

The telltale rattling of the landing gears shook the ship’s interior panels - a little less shaky and unstable, if River did say so herself. Maybe she could add ship repairs to her growing list of skills.

Din lowered down from the cockpit, grabbing a tool kit and a handheld sensor from one of the supply crates.

“I’m gonna fully power down the ship,” he reported, pushing buttons at the hatch control panel to lower the ramp and kill the auxiliary power. “The sensor will pick up any EM pulses a tracking beacon might be letting off. I don’t want any interference.”

River nodded, hiding a blush that creeped its way up her neck as she watched him advance down the exit ramp. He was so fucking smart, so goddamned resourceful and thorough. All to keep them safe.

The planet was sparse, at least where they had landed. The dried, wispy branches of tall, white trees rustled in the arid breeze. There was little else to see in this landscape - just dust and rocks, like so many other Outer Rim planets.

After several minutes of searching, Din’s boots clomped back up into the ship. He stopped at the panel once more to power on the APU, closing the hatch.

“Anything of note?” River asked, picking herself up off the floor where she’d been playing with the kid.

He shook his head. “That’s good news,” he sighed, letting his shoulders relax down from around his ears.

River smiled, peering past him to look at the barren planetscape outside.

“So what’s next?”

Din bounded back up towards the cockpit, projecting his voice over his shoulder.

“Another jump. Cruising for twelve hours.”

River nodded to herself, rifling around in one of the crates for her brown bag from the outpost. She looked down at the kid and cocked her head over towards the sleeping quarters.

“Come on, little one,” she said softly, grinning as his ears perked up towards her. “We’ve got a craft project.”

He waddled behind her into Din’s cabin, plopping himself down on the double-wide cushion she’d left on the floor.

He blinked up at her excitedly. The adventure was just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn it, now I want dumplings.


	3. River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search begins for the child's home planet and people. Din learns more about River when one of their stops turns into a dead end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay getting this out! I really wanted to nail the emotions here. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> CW: There is a brief - like, blink and you'll miss it - mention of contemplating suicide here. Not in the context of any of our characters, but as an anecdote about someone unrelated. If it makes you squirmish, skip once River starts eating dinner and pick it back up after the scene break.

“You have to promise me your eyes are closed.”

Din let out an amused puff of air through the vocal modulator.

“What?! I can’t tell. Just--”

“They’re closed,” he affirmed with a short nod.

River crossed her arms, exhaling doubt through flared nostrils as she tapped her foot. They were standing in front of the curtain that separated his room from the rest of the ship. And she wasn’t sure if she believed him.

“Cyar’ika, you’re going to have to take my word for it,” he teased.

She let out a frustrated grunt and reached out for his hands, only to miss the target as he moved them up to his helmet. His big, gloved paws covered up the top bar of his visor - a show of faith.

River smirked victoriously and rounded to his back, pushing him into the sleeping quarters.

“Okay, take three more steps and stop.”

Din made a show of taking his three exaggerated steps, hearing the kid giggle somewhere ahead of him. River’s bare feet padded around in front of him again. He picked up on how the sound of her steps changed from a muted, fleshy pound against the durasteel deck to something much quieter, like she’d sunk into something soft and muffling.

“Okay,” she breathed. “You can open your eyes.”

Din slowly drew his hands down to his sides, peering down at River’s surprise.

Right there in the middle of his rearranged cabin was a mattress, big enough for both of them. And on top of the mattress were River, cross-legged and blinking up at him, and the kid, wrapped up in a brand new burgundy robe.

“You made this,” he said, not really registering how the words sounded as he spoke them. It was a bizarre entanglement of admiration, gratitude, and acknowledgement of just -- _stars_ … of _course_ she would do something like this without being asked, something so simple yet so completely pure of heart.

He was… he--

She nodded proudly, pulling the kid into her lap. The youngling wrapped his claws in her hair, pulling forcefully as River winced through it.

It took Din a moment to get his brain to stop short-circuiting and step in.

“Hey now,” he chided, stooping down onto the mattress. He unraveled the baby’s fingers from her locks and sat him on the far steel plate of his thigh. “I’m the only one who gets to do that.”

River playfully swatted his arm below the pauldron. They lapsed into a comfortable silence as Din inspected his foundling’s new clothes, letting his lagging thoughts catch up with reality.

He’d been wanting to do something like this, to find a second set of tiny robes so he didn’t need to resort to having the little bugger run stark naked through the ship on laundry days, but… he’d just never had the time.

Suddenly he didn’t have to even think about it.

And he and River didn’t have to sleep alone.

In the span of a few hours, she’d fixed two troublesome issues - ones he probably never would’ve bothered finding solutions for, if he was being blunt. But he saw the incredible value in them, and he was appreciative in a way he hadn’t really felt before. No one else in the galaxy would’ve thought about these things, or cared enough to remedy them.

It was-- she was so…

He was short-circuiting again.

River laid back on the mattress, stretching her entire body into one rigid line with a massive inhale. She curled up on the exhale, resting her head on the unoccupied half of Din’s lap. The beskar wasn’t _comfortable_ per se, but…

Din absentmindedly stroked her hair while the kid yawned and blinked heavy eyelids.

“Do you need some sleep?” he asked - of both of them, really.

River made an affirmative little hum and looked up.

“You should sleep too. For a little while.”

Din lightly squeezed the back of her neck and shifted her onto the pillows to undo his boots and outer armor. River knit her brows together while he worked, letting the child rest his lolling head next to hers.

When Din was down to his canvas and padding, he settled down onto his back, pulling River and the kid towards him. The baby turned on his side, nuzzling into Din’s warm chest.

River made a soft sound - a catch of breath that sounded so fucking darling that Din felt like his helmet had filled with water, like he didn’t know which way was up.

She whispered with her eyes closed, “You can rest in that thing?”

Din chuckled lowly in response, a wistful half-laugh half-sigh that told her _I can, but I would rather not._ The leathery rustle of his gloves stirred over her head somewhere, followed by their soft thud against the deck. Bare fingers slid up underneath the bottom hem of her shirt, splaying across her lower back.

She melted and nestled herself closer to him and the child.

\---

The three of them couldn’t be more different in this moment. A symphony of alert tones and angry beeps rang through the cockpit, blinking red and ruthless.

The Razor Crest was bucking like a spooked blurrg, tossed through magnetic fields just above the uncharted planet’s atmosphere before careening wildly into the swirling wind storm below.

The kid was having a blast - squealing with delight from the safety of his floating pram - as the ship repeatedly soared upwards and plummeted down with no set rhythm or predictable cadence. Din was the even-keeled steel soldier he always was, maneuvering the vessel through every dicey obstacle, never once flinching at the probability of death or failure or a faulty deflector shield.

Once they’d broken the initial layer of the planet’s stratosphere, he started up the diagnostic scan to search for sentient life. It ticked dutifully as it examined the surface, spitting back repeated negative results that made Din shake his head and mutter bitterly under his breath.

And then there was River - pale as the fresh snow on Hoth, pinching a pressure point on her wrist between an iron-strong grip. Her hair swung between her boots, swaying with the movements of the ship as she sat doubled over in the co-pilot’s chair with her head between her knees.

She wasn’t going to throw up. No way. She went to kriffing _pilot school._ Sure, she dropped out, but _shit_ , she was stronger than this. It was embarrassing enough being this affected; she definitely wasn’t going to let herself paint the floor of the cockpit with a half-digested ration pack.

“Just breathe,” Din’s modulated voice echoed somewhere ahead of her.

 _Breathe._ Ha. Cute. She would’ve opened her mouth to sass him, but didn’t trust her stomach to do its job keeping her lunch in place.

The kid whooped and hollered from Din’s side, enjoying the wild ride. If River’s white-knuckle focus wasn’t entirely on managing her motion sickness, she probably would’ve loved watching him. She probably would’ve mentally recorded this moment detail-by-detail, logging it safely inside her memories to look back on whenever she needed a laugh.

A green Jedi baby and his adoptive Mandalorian father, piloting his ship through galactic peril while the kid just… _thrives._

“It’s going to be a rough landing,” he muttered over his shoulder.

River grumbled in response, sitting up to grab hold of the nearby handrail. She double-checked her safety restraints, tugging on the smooth material of the buckle to be sure she wasn’t going to go flying through the observation window.

The ship swooped down and caught a sideward gust, pushing it laterally along the bank of a river. The landing gears engaged early, skidding and skipping over the loose gravel bed before crunching to a stop a few meters off target.

Din pulled the kid from his bassinet and pivoted in his chair towards River.

“You good?” he asked, genuine concern coming through the modulation.

She looked like a wounded deer, standing on shaky legs as she felt for her bearings in the suddenly, _blessedly_ still cockpit. Every muscle of her body rippled through her come-down as she began to release the subconscious clenching she’d been doing for the last -- however long their approach took.

“Kriffing glorious, Djarin,” she spat. _Ah, there was the fire_. “Just incredible.”

Desperate for a breath of something other than pressurized, recycled oxygen, she bolted out of the lowering hatch ramp before it had fully touched the ground. Her boots crunched over the brown gravel towards the riverbank, its mud sliding and collecting along the edges of her soles.

She took a measured breath, letting the fresh air slowly fill her lungs. It was cool and damp, and smelled like cambylictus trees and lush moss. Soft sunlight dappled over the riverbank through the branches, dancing beautifully over the gently flowing water.

It was serene in a way that didn’t feel real. How did the scans not show any sentient life? This place was prime.

“That magnetosphere was a bitch,” Din grunted, trudging through the sodden grasses and dirt. The kid trailed behind him, his large eyes looking impossibly larger as he took in their surroundings.

“I was hoping this would be a hit, but...” he trailed off, picking up a smooth rock and skipping it over the brook. His frustration shone through on the throw, making the rock splash angrily into water, sinking with a loud plop.

His sigh blasted through the helmet as a burst of static, “I guess the atmospheric conditions are too much to handle.”

River picked up a rock of her own, feeling her dizziness flare up momentarily as she bent down.

“I don’t know,” she disputed, “seems pretty nice down here. The wind doesn’t even reach the surface.”

Din hummed, watching River wind up to skip her rock over the surface. The tip of her tongue peeked out of the corner of her mouth as she readied her stance and her wrist, calculating the best trajectory.

“Doesn’t mean it never does,” he countered with a soft shrug.

River launched the rock, watching as it skipped four perfect jumps across the clear, cool water. She spun back to Din with her hands placed triumphantly on her hips. She was feeling better already.

“Well, what’s next then? I know you well enough to know you already have it all mapped out.”

He smirked beneath the helmet and looked upstream, watching as the kid sunk his clawed toes into the squishy muck. He’d already begun dirtying his brand new clothes, staining the bottom hem a dark brown.

“There’s a lone moon not too far from here,” he started, picking up another smooth rock. “A group of mystics have set up a small commune. Maybe they’ll have some answers.”

Din flung the rock from his fingers, grinning under the helmet as it skipped even further than River’s.

She smirked over at him, “Show off.”

The kid waddled up, waving a small pebble in his hands and chattering up at both of them.

“You want to try?” Din asked, crouching down to show the youngling how he did it.

The kid watched intently, looking down the stream then back to the pebble in his palm. He squeezed his eyes shut and let go, suspending rock in the air over his hand. Moving his palm back to face the side of the pebble, he _pushed_ it forward with the Force, sending it skipping nearly a dozen times over the surface of the stream. He jumped up and down, pointing to where it finally sank into the water, laughing and beaming up at his father.

“Okay…” River breathed, a little exasperated, “ _he’s_ the show off _.”_

As the sun began to make its dip towards the horizon, Din set up a small campfire near the open hatch of the ship. The kid had caught fish and frogs with his bare hands, bringing each one up to his dad and presenting them like rare gifts. He collected them in a tin bucket and used a steel rod from the Crest to roast them over the open flames.

It was a relaxed, peaceful dinner - just River and the kid, seated by the fire, chowing down idly while Din took his plate into the cockpit. The child ate his frogs, bones and eyeballs and webbed feet and all. Cara hadn’t been kidding; when he wasn’t forced to eat his dad’s rations, the nugget’s natural eating habits were stomach-churningly bizarre.

When Din finished up and returned to the campfire, he was quiet - in a different way than he normally was. His pensiveness was palpable, taking on its own amorphous shape like the smoke rising off the fire.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

He took a while to respond, opting to pick at the seams of his gloves while he thought through his answer.

“How did you land on your new name?” he asked.

She raised her eyebrows just slightly, a little surprised by the question. It was a story she hadn’t ever told - and it dawned on her that Din was the only person who knew enough to even ask.

“Well,” she exhaled, resting back on her elbows, “it’s a strange story actually.”

Din turned his helmet towards her. He didn’t know what sort of answer to expect from her. Half of him predicted she’d just brush it off, not want to talk about it - the other half thought the alias might be arbitrary, just a pretty word chosen by a pretty girl.

River licked her lips and set her gaze into the fire.

“It was a couple days before I’d planned to leave Nar Shaddaa. Some friends from The Bunker were throwing a huge party - this big, combined birthday thing that took over three floors of a housing tower. Everybody was there.”

Din kept watching her, transfixed by the dance of orange firelight on her face.

“Rhet was busy in one of the rooms, playing sabacc - with my money, no less - so I wandered off and started exploring, trying to say goodbye in my own secret way to that planet… to those people.”

She chewed on her lip, knitting her brows together for a moment. She turned her head to Din, the firelight now refracting off her brown eyes, piercing through his beskar helm.

“There was a room full of people smoking a water pipe. It had been laced with something _wicked._ I was seeing things - patterns and colors swirling all around me, pulsing with the music from outside the walls. There was a woman there, and I swear she could tell what was going on in my head…. like she could make out what I had been planning, that I was running.”

River turned back to the campfire, watching the flickering flames lick the sides of the burning branches, crackling and spitting embers up into the blackening sky.

“She wasn’t making a whole lot of sense, but— I don’t know, I felt connected to her. She told me about this old parable from her home world… said I reminded her of it.”

The baby had finished up eating and shuffled over to her, climbing onto her lap. She proactively pushed her hair behind her shoulders to keep it away from his claws.

“She started talking about this man, who’d left home in search of adventure and answers to life’s questions. Along the way he’d gotten everything he wanted - love and money and influence, people fawning over him - but when he sat back and really thought about it, he was unhappy. All the things he thought he wanted were only making him feel more alone.”

She stroked the child’s ears, watching his blinks grow longer and lazier.

“So he left again. And it got worse, got lonelier. He stumbled upon a river, and was so desperate he thought about drowning himself in it. Just ending it all.”

Din wondered when he had stopped breathing. He was hanging on to every word, feeling himself get swept away in her memory.

She continued, “But a man was there - a ferryman - and in exchange for helping him fix his boat, he offered him passage across the river. The runaway stayed in the ferryman’s little hut, working on the ship and sitting on the dock, studying the water and listening for answers.”

The river just beyond the fireplace babbled, its gentle currents lapping at the silt and dirt of the bank.

She took in a steady breath and kept going, “He realized something. That pain and joy, life and death, time - kriff, _everything_ \- it’s all connected, it’s all one piece. Like how a river is everywhere at once. It’s at the mouth, it’s flowing down the mountains, rushing through valleys, screaming over a waterfall… it’s ending and dumping into an ocean, it’s evaporating into clouds, it’s pouring as rain over the rocks and trees. It’s pouring over me. It’s everything at the same time. The past and the future are just as much a part of us as the present.”

Once more she turned towards Din, eyes glassy and set halfway on him and halfway somewhere else, somewhere he was beginning to understand.

“So… I cried. A lot,” she huffed a stunted laugh, looking away again. “And when I boarded that smuggling ship a few days later, that’s the name I gave the captain.”

Din ghosted a touch under her chin, pulling her attention fully towards him. Her eyes told a story deeper than anything she’d ever shared - a thousand coursing memories and emotions and hopes that converged into the beautiful, imperfect, inimitable woman before him.

He whispered her name. Two syllables, five letters, chosen by her, for her.

“River.”

\---

The fire had died down, leaving behind glowing red wood and ash. The stars shone brilliantly above them as Din packed up their supplies, returning everything to the ship and sealing the hatch.

The kid was fully passed out - dead to the world in his sleeping nook, no doubt tuckered out from his day playing in the water. Din was thankful for his brown robe, left clean and dry aboard the ship for him to change into.

River was at the galley, storing the pots and utensils that she’d washed outside. Din came up behind her, placing his broad hands on the far points of her hips.

“Come to bed with me,” he whispered against her neck, curling his gloved fingers over her curves.

“I was hoping you’d want to try that out with me,” she kidded, leaning back into him and molding into his touch as his hands snaked under her thermal tunic.

The leather of his gloves was still cool from the outside air and scattered goosebumps over her flesh. Slowly, he lifted the shirt above her head, running his thumbs up to circle over her nipples before slipping off her simple bra band.

River turned in his grasp, running her hands over the chilled steel plates covering his chest. Her fingertips grazed the geometric indentation at the center of his armor - a six-sided, almost crystalline shape that bisected his chest, protected on all sides by shining silver steel.

“Do you know what this is called, cyare?” he asked, hushed and patient. He removed a glove and placed his hand over hers, cradling it between his warm skin and the cool armor.

River lightly shook her head, peering up into his visor.

“It’s the _kar’ta beskar_ ,” he said, curling his hand around hers. “The Iron Heart of the Mandalorian.”

Her own heart fluttered as he squeezed her hand before moving it to the back of her neck, tipping her forward to touch their foreheads together. River closed her eyes and left her hand over the diamond design, swearing she could feel Din’s heart pounding beneath the metal plating, absolutely overtaken by the swirling ardorous storm brewing inside of him. She could sense it, the ferocious protectiveness and the tender adoration, backlit by a bittersweet wisdom - the lessons learned from loss. She pulled her head back and placed her lips to the central _kar’ta_ , sweet and delicate, trying to press pure, unrefined care into its hardened edges.

Din simultaneously felt softer and stronger than he ever had before. It confused him, shattering the part of his brain that shouted out against warmth and affection, against being touched or seen - _really_ seen. It was unnatural to him, to unfurl his tightly wound soul for another to wrap themselves in, to let it stretch and breathe and entwine.

The warrior within him wanted to recoil, to put a defense up, to reject the vulnerability of this exposure - this metaphorical baring of his jugular underneath the cutting blaze of River’s stare.

“I want to kiss you,” she whispered, knitting her brows together, knowing she could only get her wish in fractions.

He removed his other glove. How long had he been shaking like this? His trembling touch ghosted over her jaw on both sides, sweeping his thumbs up to her cheekbones, drawing one down to the seam of her lips. She lightly kissed the cracked, calloused skin, blinking up at him with a fire in her eyes he had not yet seen burn quite so brightly.

She was… Fuck, he--

“Please,” she muttered, barely audible over his hammering pulse. She could feel the fire spreading, flushing her cheeks and chest red.

Without another second wasted, Din scooped her up into his arms, carrying her into the sleeping quarters and laying her onto their repurposed mattress. He crawled over her, cradling the side of her head.

“Will you wear a blindfold for me? I want to see you,” he paused, “without my helmet.”

River swallowed and nodded, her dark brown eyes blown wide with want.

Din climbed off the bed and opened a storage drawer, procuring a folded strip of dark fabric. River sat up, watching as he unwound it, letting it fall out to its full length in his grasp. He kneeled behind her and placed the blindfold over her face, carefully smoothing it across her eyes and securely tying the loose ends at the back of her head.

“How does it feel? Can you see anything?” he asked, hushed and patient again, running his fingers over her bare shoulders.

River shook her head, “No. It feels fine.”

She felt him shift behind her, standing back up to disrobe. She tried counting the heavy beskar pieces as she listened. He was so impossibly quiet as he carried out this ritualistic work - his daily, or nearly daily, shedding of his traditional armor. She could hear the rustle of his cape as it was dropped to the floor, and the metallic jangle of his utility belt and bandolier. Everything else became too similar to differentiate - except for the telltale thunk of his helmet announcing its contact with the metal of the ship. Din’s breathing was audible, slowly filling his lungs and pushing back out in steady, even increments.

And she could smell him. It seemed so much more intense now with her lack of vision. The smell of the river water had somehow seeped through his layers, lightly perfuming his skin with its crispness and minerality.

The mattress dipped ahead of her as he settled onto it, seated on his knees facing her. She reached out blindly until her fingers found purchase on the warm breadth of his bare chest, dancing their way up to his neck. She sprang forward, capturing his lips in a deep kiss.

Maker, it still baffled her, how a Mandalorian hunter could be blessed with such a full, pouty, flawless mouth.

She was hungry for him, pressing ahead eagerly. He shifted back and let her climb into his naked lap, her legs wrapped around his hips. He cursed himself for not taking her pants off before, much preferring the unencumbered slickness of her against his cock than literally anything else.

River gasped as Din’s mouth roamed to her neck, sucking marks along her feverish skin. She arched into him, stretching her neck and chest out for him to lay claim to. He curved into her, kissing his way down to her nipples, circling his searing hot tongue around each one. He sucked them into his mouth, grazed them with his teeth, released each rosy peak with a lewd pop. River squirmed and panted under his attention, relishing the liquid heat on her breasts and the steady caresses enveloping her back.

Slowly, he crawled out from under her and tipped her back until she made contact with the sheets. He unzipped her pants, shimmying them down the length of her legs before tossing them into the corner. The blindfold gave him permission to stare shamelessly, to let his eyes fall wherever they wanted and drink in the extraordinary sight of her - the lean elegance of her calves, the feminine softness of her thighs, her round hips that protruded to two far points, sloping into the valley above her mound.

He wanted to taste her. His lips were drawn to her like a magnet.

She squeaked at the surprise of his mouth between her legs, bypassing all teasing and pleasantries and going straight to work lapping at her folds. It was as if he was trying to devour her, to cover every part of her with his tongue and lips and teeth. He licked generous stripes up and down her outer lips, dipped into her wet hole, danced up to her clit.

River twisted against the bed, her hands going everywhere and nowhere without the aid of her vision. They raked up into her hair, played with her taut nipples, reached blindly for Din’s own hands to wrestle themselves into, entwining fingers and squeezing hard as he worked her up.

Fuck, she was so good on his tongue - all saccharine slickness, nearly drowning him with how wet she’d become. His fingers, the ones that were tangled up in her trembling grasp, clamped down tighter to her hip, drawing them even closer together, pressing his mouth harder against her core.

River gasped out a cracked moan and started grinding against him, chasing after the delicious friction she got from his facial hair, canting her hips in the right rhythm to get her there.

“Fuck, Din, I--” she choked, crumbling into a frustrated whine.

He pulled back just slightly, enough to get a breath and a word.

“What do you need?”

She tightened her hold on his fingers. “These.”

Din hummed and dove back into her pussy, laving her clit with harder strokes, unwinding his fingers from her death grip to tease her entrance. She was dripping out onto his hand, soaking the bed beneath her. He groaned at the feeling and pushed in two fingers, crooking them up and making her shake with each punctuated plunge.

Again, her hands were frantic and unfocused, alternating between twisting into the sheets, knotting into her hair spilled over the pillow, rolling and twisting her hardened nipples. She was gasping and mewling, her keening moans coming to a crescendo as Din sucked her clit into his mouth, suckling on it with a quick, steady rhythm that made raw electricity streak hot up her body.

Was she screaming? She had no idea. Everything seemed to slip away.

Maybe she was screaming so loud that she couldn’t hear Din urging her through her orgasm as it smashed into her like a rogue asteroid, making her explode into a million tiny pieces in total disorienting freefall, only to be wound tightly back together again by some divine miracle of gravitational pull and quantum physics.

She vaguely felt him move up her body, the sensations coming to her in shades - his impossibly wet lips trailing back up her stomach to the curve of her breast; his warm tongue licking a stripe up the side of her neck to her earlobe; the dull scrape of teeth against her shoulder.

What was he saying? It was all still so impossible for her to hear over the roar of her aftershocks.

“Wh-- what--” she panted, unable to get enough air or muscle control for even a simple question.

Din shushed her with a quiet chuckle, planting a tender kiss to her lips. She could taste herself on him.

“My beautiful, brave girl,” he whispered. “So pretty when you cum for me.”

She sighed, running her hands through his mussed helmet hair, feeling the full-body shudder that rolled through him at the contact. He sprawled out next to her, taking full advantage of their larger sleeping arrangement.

River’s chest was still heaving as she tried to pull in enough air to function.

“You gonna make it?” he teased, nudging her shoulder.

She could hear his shit-eating grin in its full glory, the thick sarcasm flowing past his lips without the usual modulation.

River laughed and gulped down a big breath as she sassed him back, “You-- you’re gonna pay for that one.”

He rolled on top of her, pinning her down playfully.

“Is that right? Gonna put a hit on me?”

She nodded and pursed her lips.

“Yup, and you better w-watch out, ‘cause my boyfriend is the _biggest, scariest, baddest_ bounty hunter in the galaxy.”

Din nudged her hips astride, wedging himself between her thighs. They gleamed in the low lighting of the cabin, slick with her juices.

“Oh yeah?” he countered, grasping his cock to rub it along the seam of her folds.

She twitched underneath him, still sensitive but wanting so badly to feel that delicious stretch of her walls.

“Y-yeah,” she retorted, a little breathier than before. “Got all kinds of… blaster cannons and flamethrowers and-- and armor and stuff.”

Din made a low grumble, feigning consideration. “Sounds dangerous.”

River nodded enthusiastically, matting her hair against the pillow, swirling her hips against his engorged tip. Fuck, where was she going with this again? Her hornball brain could only process so much right now, with him teasing her like this.

“Well if he’s so scary,” he paused, pushing his pulsing head into her tight heat, “then it’s a good thing my girlfriend is so good at hiding.”

She took in a breath to respond, only to have it punched right out as he buried himself to the root inside of her. Her back arched up off the mattress as if she were electrocuted, fluttering and clenching around his iron-hard length as he sat motionless in the perfect squeeze of her body.

He curved his hands around the tops of her shoulders, giving himself a counterweight as he started drilling into her, sending her tits bouncing with each collision of their hips. They stammered out curses and praises to one another, filling the cabin air with muttered filth and reverent adoration, thickening it with the scent and haze of their sweat.

Still riding that fuzzy high from her first orgasm, River’s second washed over her easily, catching Din off-guard. She wished she could’ve seen his face when he felt her spasming around him, how his eyebrows would’ve knotted together in surprise and veneration and smugness - because of course he did this to her, of course all she could do was crumble under his attention. It was all he could to do, too.

When he felt himself nearing his own edge, he withdrew and crawled up her body, tilting her jaw open to rest the squelching wet tip of his cock against her lower lip. He stroked himself, feeling every muscle of his body tense and clench before he unloaded into her waiting mouth, streaking white spurts of his cum across her pink tongue.

She swallowed it all, and when he swiped a stray drop from her chin, she welcomed his saturated index finger into her mouth with a sexy swirl and a naughty smile.

Din rested back on his heels, catching his breath as he watched her.

“Girlfriend, huh?” she joked, grinning wider than he’d ever seen.

Her smile was gorgeous - overtaking the expanse of her cheeks, shining brilliantly even in the dim conditions, telling him of a colored past and a clear future - one he found himself daydreaming about in the cockpit under the pretense of taking the Crest off autopilot for a few moments, just in case.

Was _girlfriend_ the right term? Fuck no. But--

“Hey,” he teased back, leaning down for a kiss, “you said _boyfriend_ first.”

They laughed into each others’ lips, rolling across their double-wide bed. For now, in this moment, the present, past, and future flowed through them - constant and all-consuming, everywhere at once, as steady and unwavering as the river’s stream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's everyone holding up? I'm beyond blessed to have a job where I can safely work from home, with only minimal concern about my employment status as this mess drags on. In fact, I've found my workload has actually increased - though that might be stemming from me wanting to prove my worth while we're in this weird purgatory.
> 
> With all that being said, sorry that this update took longer than usual. I hope you're taking care of yourself and find all the mind-numbing escapism your heart desires here on AO3. <3


	4. Jump

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, has it really been two months since I last updated this? I hit a liiiittle bit of a creative wall with this story, trying to figure out how I wanted to progress to the plot’s climax. But now I’ve got it all sorted and I’m happy to share this new chapter!
> 
> PS: I apologize in smut.

He was already strapping on the last piece of his armor when she jolted awake. A wild howling echoed outside the ship - high-pitched, ferocious, and terrifying.

“What the fuck is that?”

He didn’t answer. River fumbled around for her clothes, scrambling to pull them on while Din whisked himself out of the cabin and into the cockpit, as silent and light on his feet as air.

By the time she’d pulled on her pants and shirt, he was already warming the engines and angling the deflector shields.

“Din, what--”

“We need to leave. Strap in.”

He was all business, focused entirely on the task at hand, his stoicism guiding him steadily through these practiced motions.

Just as River was going to open her mouth again and ask _what the fuck was happening_ , a loud thud against the viewport cut the breath from her lungs.

Some creature - nearly five meters long with matted brown fur and a row of fangs that looked sharper than Din’s vibroblade - threw itself against the transparisteel, gnashing its teeth and clawing at the hull of the ship. Its beady eyes glowed red around black pupils, glassy and shrunken into pinpoints from the blast of the Crest’s headlights.

Stunned and speechless, she buckled herself into the copilot’s seat and watched as Din maneuvered them up off the planet’s surface, listening to the monsters’ screams as they either slipped off the smooth sides of the ship, or were blasted unceremoniously with the Crest’s massive turrets.

“The lack of sentient life makes more sense now, doesn’t it?” he asked, droll and dry.

His humor always caught her off guard, coming out to make a brief appearance at the most inopportune moments. Like being attacked by overgrown alien rat monsters.

The magnetosphere was pointedly less intense on the way off the planet, only pulling and tumbling the ship as much as any other run-of-the-mill storm. The kid, Maker be praised, was a trooper through the whole ordeal. River was starting to wonder if he loved chaos more than he loved his own father.

“So where are we headed? Lone moon?” she asked.

Din nodded after he’d completed the hyperspace calculations, pushing the lever forward steadily as the stars streamed ahead of them.

“I have to stay up here to navigate,” he said, spinning his chair just slightly to face her. Her hair was disheveled from sleep and sex, peeking out of the hood she’d pulled up on her oversized sleep sweater.

“There’s a debris field surrounding it that’s nearly a parsec wide,” he explained. “I’ll jump where I can, but it’s going to be pretty constant coming in and out of hyperspeed.”

River frowned in pity. “That sounds… not fun.”

Din shrugged it off and turned back towards the console. The kid had already dozed back to sleep in his pram - hopefully he’d stay down through all the jumps. He had a long day of play and needed the shut-eye. Din closed the lid from his vambrace and maneuvered it down and out of the cockpit.

River was fully awake at this point, as one would be after narrowly escaping death in the middle of uncharted space.

“Do you want company?” she offered, a little more coquettish in her delivery than she’d intended.

He smiled beneath the helmet and gave her a short nod.

River readjusted in the co-pilot's seat, relaxing back into the cushioned leather. The viewport up here was almost magical, how it crested up and over the entire domed front of the ship, providing this unencumbered view of space-time swirling around them.

She let her thoughts drift, thinking about their conversation by the fire, about how safe and happy she felt. She hadn’t experienced either of those things in any measure in a very, very long time. It felt like being wrapped in a warm blanket, fresh from the thermal dehydrator.

She loved being able to just sit here with him, to enjoy a peaceful silence together. Her eyes landed on his armored head and shoulders, seated in the chair ahead of her. Din seemed tense, like there was something he was mulling over beneath the helm.

River smiled softly.

“You alright in there?” she asked, tapping her bare foot against the side of his armrest.

Din startled subtly, turning the chair towards her again.

“I’m— yeah, um. I’m ...fine.”

She arched an eyebrow at him and narrowed her eyes skeptically.

“I can smell your brains cooking under that thing… like scrambled eggs,” she joked. “What’re you thinking about?”

He shifted awkwardly in his seat, clearing his throat, and — _oh._ Then she saw it. His pants were tented high and tight in his lap. River drew in a slow breath as her eyes dragged up his torso from the thick ridge between his legs.

“Well, I can cer—”

“It’s not—” he interrupted, head twisting over to the beeping hyperdrive alert, “the _best_ time…”

River moved to unbuckle herself, only to be cut off by Din reaching out to stop her hands in place.

“No,” he grunted. “It’s not safe.”

The alarm beeped again behind him as River shot him a defiant look.

“Doesn’t that make it more fun?” she asked, her lips curling into a roguish grin. She took one of his hands from the buckle and brought it under the low hem of her sweater.

“Stop,” he retorted, barely above a whisper. Her hand let go of his, but he didn’t move it from beneath her nightclothes. The fire in her eyes continued to roar, melting his resolve and burning his bones to ash.

Slowly, painfully slowly, he drew his gloved fingertips up the smooth flesh of her thigh. Bit by bit, he inched higher towards the center, just barely brushing against her naked heat.

The flight console let out a stream of angry beeps. Din swiftly slid his hand out from underneath her sweater, spinning back to grip the control sticks.

River puffed out a frustrated little exhale as they dropped out of hyperspace.

“I’m not kidding,” he said, nodding towards the debris field ahead of them. “It’s in rings. We won’t be in hyper for more than a couple minutes at a time. That alone - the skipping - is dangerous enough.”

Mischief flashed across River’s face as Din maneuvered deftly around the floating hunks of rock and space junk. A couple minutes at a time? She could work with that. She chose to ignore his warning about the frequent jumps, chalking it up as a side-effect of his protective nature.

“I can hear your gears turning, meshla,” he said over his shoulder. “Don’t even think about it.”

River chuckled, “I won’t distract you.”

Din shook his head and continued piloting. He could see the clearing up ahead. He started calculations once again.

“I severely doubt that,” he huffed.

“I can go to our quarters if I’m such a _distraction_ , Din,” she playfully needled. “I’m sure that by the time we—”

“No,” he rebuked, curt and biting. The harshness of it stirred something low in River’s belly. “Stay.”

He pushed the hyperspace lever forward, lurching them back into that shining blue tunnel. For a moment, they both sat in stock still silence, air electrified and buzzing between them.

The vocoder crackled to life.

“Get on my lap.”

His helmet stayed forward, never turning in her direction, trained on the swirling horizon. River felt a tremor of a thrill arc up her spine as she undid her safety harness and padded over to the pilot’s chair. He was straining against the confines of his pants, thick and curved, wetting the fabric at the tip with his pre-cum.

She stood before him, moving to throw one leg up over his, only to be stopped mid-swing by a strong hand.

“No,” his deep baritone rumbled again. He indulged in a firm squeeze to her knee and replaced his hand back on the armrest. “Face the window.”

River spun in the tight space between his open legs and the flight console. Slowly, she lowered herself down and back onto his waiting lap. The cold, hard press of his beskar cuisses shot goosebumps up her thighs.

“Listen to me,” he purred in her ear. River swallowed thickly, unable to stop the small swirl of her hips against his bulge. “I need you to do exactly as I say.”

She nodded eagerly against the side of his helmet. Already, she could feel herself seeping into the dark duraweave of his pants.

“Say it out loud.”

“Yes,” she affirmed. “I’ll do exactly as you say.”

A low rumble of approval rattled in Din’s chest, vibrating the spaces between River’s ribs. Fuck, he was so all-consuming, so broad and strong and dangerously sexy as he held this heady power over her, playing with her like a toy while he navigated them through Wild Space.

He slid his gloves off, dropping them to the floor between his boots. His left hand snaked up underneath the sweatshirt, groping at her breast, while the other stroked the seam where her thighs met the outer lips of her core.

“Navcomp says we have two minutes and forty-eight seconds until the next drop,” he murmured against her neck, voice coated with desire. His fingers drew closer to her center, grazing her inner lips just barely.

“Fuck,” he huffed, swirling a finger through her slick, “you’re always so wet for me.”

River let out a little whimper, twitching her hips down to get him to touch her clit.

“Think I can make you cum before the alarm sounds?” he hummed against her skin, pinching her nipple greedily.

She squealed, twisting in his lap as he brushed two wet fingers over her bundle of nerves, grunting up into the pressure of her hips as she chased his hand.

“Answer me,” he lowly growled.

“ _F-fuck—_ ” she sputtered out. “Yes _,_ please.”

“Yeah?” he coolly replied, circling tight and direct on her clit. She choked another broken moan at the intense attention. “Good.”

River let out keening whines as he worked at her, spreading herself wider across his armored thighs. Din kicked a leg up to crook her knee over the armrest, leaving her open for him, exposing her weeping cunt to the cool air of the ship.

He brought his hand up to her mouth, plunging his two fingers past her parted lips. River could taste the sweet saltiness of her sex as he pushed them further back along her tongue, sliding deeper until she gagged around him. He groaned long and low against her back.

With a lewd wet pop, he ripped his soaked fingers from her mouth, watching as an errant strand of her saliva stretched and dropped along the front of her sweater. When his touch returned to her folds, it was so much wetter, so fucking slick and slippery that she could take the width of _three_ of his fingers.

She swore wantonly as he fucked his hand up into her, filling the cockpit with squelching sounds and breathy moans. River felt her orgasm rising up hot and bright inside her, pulling her spine taut against his armored chest with each tap of his fingers against her g-spot.

“Thirty seconds,” he hissed behind her, just as the warning alarm began its initial chime.

His thumb brushed up to circle fervently against her nub, rocking in time with his thrusting hand.

“You gonna be a good girl?” he panted in her ear, static warping over the timbre of his voice. River felt her walls tighten around him even more, clinging to every ridge and valley of his fingers. “Cum all over my fucking hand. I want to feel you soak my—”

River shattered in his lap, crying out his name while the deceleration alarm blasted its staccato warning, layering over Din’s ragged, punched-out moan as he felt her flutter and pulse around his knuckles.

He slowed his pumping hand as the Razor Crest tipped out of hyperspace, bracing his forearm against River’s chest, holding her safely in place as the ship bobbed forward. Her heart was thundering under his bare palm.

“You did so good. So pretty when you cum for me,” he whispered, removing his hands from her to grasp the controls. “Now sit still.”

River panted on top of him, coming down from her high, disoriented by Din’s swerving evasive maneuvers. He expertly flew them past another round of floating detritus, zipping around massive chunks of blasted sedimentary crust, suspended in the remnant magnetic field of the former planet.

She felt herself hazing out, her exhaustion catching back up with her as she laid boneless on top of him, stretched out like a lazy loth cat while he drove. Her eyelids dropped closed, sealing out the filtered light of the hanging stars.

Din shifted beneath her, pressing his erection against her ass, letting her know they weren’t done.

“You think you can do it again?” he whispered.

Her eyes slivered open at that. She chuckled, low and syrupy against his chest.

“You think you can _make_ me do it again?” she sassed.

Din huffed a laugh through the vocoder.

“ _Brat,”_ he purred, lightly slapping her inner thigh as his hand moved to punch in the next round of hyperspace calculations. “Strip. Now.”

River’s lips curled into a devilish little smile as she sat up fully on his lap, pulling the sweat-dampened fabric over her head and tossing it onto the cockpit floor. As much as she loved having her Mandalorian without the armor, with his plush lips pressed to her instead of the cold sting of metal, she craved this in equal measure - this lurid contrast of her stark nakedness, her softness, against the harsh crush of his metal-encased muscle.

After pushing the lever again, he used the momentum of their surge forward to hoist her up his body, pinning her there as he freed his cock from the confines of his pants. His tip was leaking desperately, pulsing and ready for attention.

“Less than two minutes this time,” he said, lining himself up at her entrance, guiding her other knee to drape over the opposite armrest. She was split wide across him.

Slowly, he pushed her down onto his length, gasping as he broke her open. His fingers curled tightly against her hips as he ground up into her, giving her every inch of him as she twitched and shuddered.

“You’re going to stay perfectly still,” he ordered, moving his grip down into the crooks behind her knees, lifting them up to give him leverage as he rocked in and out of her.

“Y-yes,” she panted, clamping down around him.

“Perfectly. Still.”

River inhaled to answer, only to have the air knocked out of her lungs as he rolled his hips down and violently _plunged_ back inside, hammering his cock hard and fast up into her as he slammed her body back down against his. It was obscene, being held up and spread open like this, just taking what he gave her, suffocating and choking on recycled air as he fucked her so hard she couldn’t make a sound.

“That’s right,” he grunted behind her. “Take it.”

She managed a stunted, shuddering inhale that seemed to go nowhere, to dissipate and burn into nothing in her chest as he pounded into her, thrusting so fucking hard up into her cunt that the base of the pilot’s seat rattled and complained.

He was snarling behind her, holding so tightly to the fleshy backs of her knees that she could already feel the hand-shaped bruises starting to bloom. The alarm began blaring, its repetitive beeping nearly a perfect match to Din’s frantic thrusts.

He slowed, replacing River’s knees astride his own between his legs and the sides of the chair. Grumbling and frustrated by the rules of his own game, he wrapped his arms around her torso once again as the ship dropped out of the tunnel for a second time.

River was squirming in his lap, trying to get the momentum to fuck herself back onto his length while he reached around her to pilot.

“Stop,” he said, voice definitely gruffer and more hoarse than before. “What did I tell you?”

Her heart skipped several beats.

“Stay perfectly still,” he reiterated. “Right here.” He patted the juncture of their sexes. He knew exactly what he was doing, shooting a jolt lightning up her body as the impact vibrated up her lower body.

She swore under her breath, feeling him twitch inside the tight squeeze of her channel. Fuck, it wasn’t fair, watching how he so effortlessly avoided each obstacle, how he could see the path in his mind and plan it and execute it so fucking flawlessly. It was mind-searingly hot. Her hips canted back when he swung around a crumpled comms satellite, wrenching a needy groan out of him.

“Din,” she breathed, unable to think of _anything_ other than feeling him drag his swollen head along her walls. “Din, please—”

“ _Settle_ ,” he warned breathily, to both of them if he was being honest. “The next calculations are on the screen to your left. Put them in the nav.”

River took in a shaky breath, furrowing her brows and biting her lip as she worked. Maker, she was so _full_ of him, dripping down the length of his throbbing cock.

He couldn’t help himself as he watched her. Din leaned back, grabbing greedy fistfuls of her ass while she punched in codes and coordinates.

“Okay,” she sighed, rolling back just slightly as he dug his fingers into the plump roundness. “Done.”

Wordlessly, he tipped her forward, guiding her hand to the hyperdrive lever and pushed. As soon as the ship lurched back up to speed, he roughly stood from the chair, bending River over the console, tangling a hand into the hair at the back of her head. He picked up a brutal pace.

“Good girl,” he grunted, breathing heavily through his thrusts. “Piloting my ship — sitting on my cock. _Good_ , good girl.”

River was mewling like mad, bent over and taking it, throat already growing hoarse from her noises. Din kept snapping his hips forward, growling in appreciation when he felt her squeeze tight around him.

“I can f-feel you,” he groaned, moaning loudly, untangling his hand from her hair to circle furiously over her clit. Her back arched up and pushed her swollen sex against his pubic bone, meeting his ragged thrusts and deepening them. “Can feel — fuck, _fuck,_ River, m’gunna cum.”

She let out a harsh gasping wail, contracting around him in white-hot bliss as he spilled into her, unconsciously spreading her knees wider to feel him drive that extra bit into her. He pumped it into her deep, so far into her pussy that she knew she’d be leaking all day.

The cockpit was filled with their combined, labored breaths - the only sound in this vacuum of space. Din placed a playful smack against her ass, cracking loudly into the air as they both tumbled into a fit of spent, satisfied giggles.

The navcomp started its incessant beeping again. With a heavy, contented sigh, Din slid out of her, tucking himself back into his stained pants. River plucked her sweater off the floor and turned around, tipping his helmet to gently touch her forehead. Gods, she looked so beautiful to him - flushed and sheened with sweat, stray hairs glowing in the blue backlight.

“Don’t go down,” he said, squeezing her hip lovingly. “Not yet.”

She nodded and slipped the sweater back on, suddenly freezing without his body pressed so desperately against her.

“Okay,” she said sweetly, placing a soft kiss on the cheek of his helm before going back to the co-pilot's seat, strapping in for the next part of their adventure.

———

“Is it supposed to smell like this?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

The ship _looked_ fine. Hells, it even sounded fine during landing, when usually something could be heard rattling precariously from deep in the Crest’s belly.

“It smells like… burning electricity.”

Din clipped his pulse rifle across his back and started down the ramp, kid following behind him with his wooden toy in tow.

“It’s the coaxium offgassing,” he explained away. “I’ll check the injector before we go. Lightspeed jumping isn’t ideal for a bird this old, but this trip would’ve taken a week otherwise.”

River shrugged, satisfied with his answer, and followed him into the moon’s town square. The landscape was mostly barren, not offering much in terms of vegetation, but sweet gods did it make up for that in gorgeous crystal formations. Everywhere she turned, River was enraptured by them - sweeping arches made of jagged, milky purple stone; carved obsidian obelisks; smoothed, opalescent pebbles, stacked atop one another in ways that seemed to defy gravity. They reflected the pastel watercolor sky, filled with wispy clouds that looked nearly iridescent.

The market was small, hosting just a few vendors and storefronts, plus a lone cantina. A woman with cerulean skin and slate-grey hair approached them, kneeling low to inspect the child. River placed a calming hand on Din’s elbow.

He’d told her on approach that these people were peaceful, that the moon’s parent planet was destroyed in test fires for the first Death Star. They followed a mystical religion, one that did not believe in retaliation or violence. They were not Jedi, as the Jedi were a dying faith - but perhaps this lone rock would house some leads about the kid’s people.

The woman said something to the child, quiet and soft, in a language neither Din nor River had ever heard before. The baby babbled happily, waving his little toy in the air to show her. She took it in her hands, admiring it enthusiastically in the same way a child would, before placing it back in the kid’s clawed grasp. She looked at him thoughtfully and stroked one of his fuzzy ears before straightening back up to her full height.

“He is very special,” she said with a regal nod. Her voice was light as air, nearly crystalline in its clarity and sparkle. “You are his guardians?”

“Yes. He is a foundling. We’re searching for his homeworld,” Din replied. River fought a blush at being included in this answer, feeling her heart blur into a melted, amorphous mess behind her ribs.

The woman looked down at the child again, smiling warmly.

“He is strong in the Force. I can sense it.”

The baby looked up at his dad, making the grabby gesture that meant “up.” Din scooped him into the crook of his arm.

“He…” Din broke off, unsure of how much to share. “He has saved my life many times. I first saw his power when he killed a mudhorn that tried to attack me.”

The woman’s eyes grew wide.

“Strong indeed,” she pondered, tapping a delicate finger against her chin. “We don’t often get visitors to this colony, Mandalorian. Those who do make planetfall are always here for answers.”

Her eyes met his through the visor. He felt strange under her gaze, like his thoughts weren’t being contained in his own mind.

“You seek his people,” she said slowly, “his family. And yet—”

The baby cooed, reaching up towards Din’s pauldron, tapping three tiny claws against the mudhorn signet. Din felt the spaces behind his eyes tighten and grow hot.

“I believe your foundling is exactly where he needs to be.”

The woman moved her gaze to River.

“And you, my dear,” she said sweetly, her crystal bell voice ringing beautifully through the soothing, salty air. “You’ve been running.”

River felt a mix of surprise and wonder. Her eyes flitted about the woman’s blue face, searching her violet eyes. She was beautiful and radiated waves of calm and wisdom.

“How very interesting,” she patted her chin again. “So afraid to trust. And yet…”

River and Din exchanged a look before turning back to the mystic.

“You are very much in love. I feel it. Your foundling is in good care.”

River couldn’t fight the blush anymore. She turned her face sheepishly towards Din, tucking into her shoulder. Din cleared his throat after a moment, grateful for the helmet hiding his own crimson-flushed cheeks.

“Is there anyone here who can help us?” he asked. The tiny wobble in his voice was not lost on River. She chewed on her tongue to keep from exploding with tenderness.

The woman exhaled a measured breath. “Perhaps. Come,” she waved, leading them towards the small cantina.

Heads turned as they entered, each unabashed in their appraisal of the three strangers. A wafting wind of whispers followed as the woman led them to the back of the room, through a thick purple curtain adorned with golden geometric patterns.

An old man, wrinkled with ghost-white wisps of hair growing patchy from his head, lifted his beige hood to drape across the backs of his shoulders.

“ _Maker_ ,” he whispered, seeing the child. His eyes, cloudy with cataracts, raised up to the Mandalorian and River and panned between them. “How very curious…”

Din shifted his weight between his feet, clearly out of his element.

“Please,” the old man motioned to the open chairs. “Sit.”

The room was dimly lit, filled with burning candles and small dishes of fragrant flowers and herbs. The pair lowered timidly onto the cushioned seats.

“The child… has he been tested for midichlorians?”

Din tilted the helmet towards the man before turning to River expectantly. She cocked an eyebrow and shrugged silently.

“Has he what?” Din deadpanned.

The man reclined in his chair, chuckling as he casually crossed his arms over his chest.

“I have much to explain,” he said with a sparkling smirk. “ _Too_ much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me! If you are interested, I recently posted a spicy 9k word Paz/Reader one shot (which is kind of becoming a 2-3 Chapter deal) and the first chapter of a Mandalorian x Death Stranding crossover. I’m REALLY FUCKING EXCITED about that one, and have Chapter 2 nearly done. Death Stranding was my quarantine game of choice and I am slightly embarrassed to admit the number of hours I’ve spent playing it.


	5. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Debris fields aren’t the only thing on the horizon as Din, River and the kid continue their journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: There is a scene here that triggers River pretty badly. So, if mentions or (non-graphic) descriptions of domestic violence/physical abuse also trigger you, please proceed with caution or skip the first third of this chapter.

River shouldn’t want to laugh. She definitely knew that. Her diaphragm contracted and flexed like a bucking blurrg, desperately wrestling down an amused giggle.

It was the sand. The soft pink sand was so superfine and powdery that it squeaked under Din’s heavy boots with each anxious back-and-forth step he took. He sounded absolutely ridiculous, huffing and squeaking and quietly grunting.

Helpful. She could attempt being helpful, maybe make a helpful suggestion.

“Din, it’s going to be fine,” she said brightly. “ _He’s_ going to be fine. The people here aren’t — ill-intentioned. You know that.”

The kid had just been whisked away by some village teachers and mystics for observation. They’d insisted it was a free-form sort of exercise, that he’d be exposed to all kinds of sensory activities and tools, monitored to see how he interacted with them. Other force-sensitive children joined him. River had never seen Din so on-edge. Din had never himself felt so on-edge. It was foreign, feeling so upside down from something as small as entrusting a group of crystal-worshipping weirdos with watching his kid.

“Why don’t you go soak in those salt baths they were telling us about? That sounds relaxing,” she offered, overexaggerating a sense of optimism and calm in the hopes that it would somehow rub off on him.

Din clenched and unclenched his fists, flexing the fingers until his joints strained against both his flesh and his gloves. She felt herself withdrawing, losing the battle with her patience as she grasped at straws for a way to help him feel better. Back and forth he stalked, over and over, occasionally pausing to shake his head.

Suddenly, he whipped around to River as if struck by lightning, overtaken by an idea.

“Will you spar with me?” His voice was eager and nearly childlike. He held himself open and strung tight, palms splayed at his sides like a jungle cat about to pounce.

River shot a deadpan look from under her scrunched brow.

“My face is finally looking better and you suggest sparring?”

Din‘s shoulders fell as he turned back to continue pacing. Being reminded of the bruise Rhet left across her cheek had him crackling like frayed wire again. Beyond that — Din wasn’t going to hurt her. Couldn’t even _imagine_ hurting her. His stomach flipped at the flicker of realization that she even expected that, even a little bit, even through the veil of her dry sarcasm.

“We can’t keep putting this off,” he gently argued, crossing his arms over his chest. “I at least have to show you some basics.”

River crossed her own arms.

“I know the basics,” she pressed dismissively.

Din paused, unfolding himself and standing with his back to her.

“Then come at me,” he invited. When he didn’t immediately sense her springing at him, he slapped the left side of his cuirass. “Come on.”

River scoffed, recoiling back from this ridiculous setup.

“No fucking way,” she rebutted. “Not with all your armor on. I’m not gonna — are you insane?!”

Without another word, he unwound his cape and started taking off pieces of beskar plating, stripping down to just his helmet, padding, and leg guards.

“You’re kidding me,” River stammered. “Right now?!”

Din nodded.

“You want to be helpful? Learn this. Learn how to defend yourself,” he commanded in that even-keeled coolness she admired him for. But this time, his pragmatism was infuriating, poking and prodding at her patience. Din slapped his chest again. Without the cuirass, the resulting sound was muted and fleshy - a leather-bound palm striking canvas-covered muscle. “Come on.”

Frustration and fear roiled in the pit of her stomach, churning like molten metal. Didn’t he remember what she told him? How these “lessons” had been beaten into every part of her body? Her blood seemed to somehow run ice cold and searingly hot at the same time, overcome with wrath and terror simultaneously.

Fuck this. She’d been hurt like this before. It wasn’t going to happen again.

“River —”

A white-hot flash of anger exploded in her, charring the base of her lungs. She lunged at him with a roar, putting the full force of her body behind it, and slammed her shoulder into the vulnerable spot over his kidney. He buckled underneath her, stumbling forward onto his knees as he clutched his side.

“Fucking _hells_ ,” Din groaned, panting through the shockwaves of pain. He didn’t expect such a strategic hit. “The kidney?!”

He turned around and tilted his helmet up at River, instantly understanding his error. She was shaking, her chest heaving up and down. Hot, angry tears welled along the dam of her lower lashes.

“Hey, woah,” he said quietly, clamoring up to his feet. She scrambled away from him and furiously swiped at the tears that tipped out along her cheeks from the impact. “Wait.”

She shot him a look fiercer than point-blank blaster fire. Wordlessly, she turned on her heel and ran up the open hatch of the Crest, sprinting to the refresher. He heard the slam of her boots fade quieter as the distance grew between them, until the pounding stopped.

River looked at herself in the mirror, saw the panic glaring bright red across her features. Shaky hands twisted the knobs for the sink as she dipped her head low to splash cold water onto her flushed skin.

It was too much. It was too familiar. She was terrified, breathing too fast and too shallow. She clung to the sink’s ledge, tried to steady herself, tried to shake loose the images.

_“Come on, little bird, hit me!”_

_Rhet slapped the skin of his bare bicep, loud and cracking, bright and hot like lightning. She wound her arm back, jutting out with her middle finger’s knuckle positioned like he instructed. She hated the sound of her bones colliding with his skin, how the pound of her fist against his body seemed to hurt her more than it hurt him no matter how hard she tried._

_“Pathetic,” he spat, sneering down at her. “Hit me harder, Mesa. Like you fucking mean it.”_

_He was drunk, reeking of spiced liquor. He smacked his arm again, showing Mesa her target. She shook out her sore hand and blinked up at him._

_“Hurry up!”_

_She frowned and wound up again, putting more of her core behind the twist. Just before her fist made impact, Rhet spun out of his sideways positioning and struck the open heel of his palm against her ear. She staggered backwards and wailed, unable to hear her agony over the high-pitched ringing inside her skull._

_She blinked through a watery sheen of tears, looking up to see Rhet towering over her crouched body. His smile was wide and sinister, crinkling the corners of his eyes - a predator torturing its cornered prey._

_“See, little bird?” he growled, gripping her shoulders to shove her down to the ground. “You gotta be ready for anything.”_

_His fists rained on her like heavy hailstones._

Two soft knocks pulled her from the memory.

“River?”

Din sounded as soft as she had ever heard - softer and gentler than she thought him capable of. It crumbled in her chest, crushed her heart with his timidity, as if her organs were made of ash.

“Will you open the door?”

She exhaled unsteadily before straightening back up and shaking out the tension in her hands and jaw. Slowly, tentatively, she inched open the refresher door and saw Din standing there, still in only his padding and canvas from the waist up. His shoulders were riding high and tense around his ears.

“I’m so sorry,” he shook his head. “I didn’t — gods, I didn’t think —”

River opened the door the rest of the way and fell into his chest, colliding with him and burying her dampened face into the warm, solid breadth of his torso. After a stunned second, he wrapped his arms around her, clutching her tightly to him, stroking her hair as he rocked her gently from side to side.

It took her a brainless moment to register the things he was saying as they came out muffled and rumbling from deep in his chest. He spoke in broken phrases.

“Never going to hurt you — can’t believe I even… kriff — River — please, my sweet girl — don’t cry — always going to be safe — do fucking _anything_ for you—”

The tears were springing forward again, pinching at the backs of her eyes.

“Please just hold me,” she sniffled against his shirt. Stars, she should have felt so pathetic, so infantile and weak, and yet even as her tears wet the fabric of her Mandalorian’s shirt, she knew she wasn’t.

How could she be, when he held her like this? How could she be weak when he saw nothing but strength in her?

Din squeezed her tighter for a brief moment before bending down to wrap his left arm underneath her bum, scooting her up to guide her legs around his waist. His other arm stayed braced across her back, holding her to him as he walked them into their quarters. With incredible care, he softly laid her on top of their bed, maneuvering beside her to cradle her against his body.

They molded to each other, caressing and stroking arms and chests and waists. Din took off his gloves and lightly scratched at her scalp, relishing the way she melted into his palms, how her head rolled back to expose her vulnerable neck.

He knew she trusted him. And now he understood that her wounds - the ones that hadn’t left physical scars, the ones that had rooted themselves deep in the darkest, most guarded parts of her mind - needed all the care and love he could offer.

Love.

A peculiar word to him. One not spoken in Mandalorian culture; one of no use, in his line of work. One he hadn’t uttered since he was a boy.

He held onto her, pouring his silent adoration over her skin like healing water, until it was time to pick up the child.

———

The tiny galley table was a mess of old-fashioned paper and colored wax crayons. River and Din sat on either side, watching as the kid padded his bare feet over his finished doodles to work on filling every available inch of negative space.

Nothing made total sense, at least not yet. The teachers and spirit guides suggested he be given the opportunity to draw and color, that perhaps one day his creations would provide some nebulous clue about his past - at least until he was old enough to speak, whenever the kark that was.

So far, his artwork was mostly blobs and scribbles with no defining characteristics other than _mess_ or _chaos._ River picked up a sheet of paper with a swirly blue background, cut through with an aggressive slash of red.

“I vote we call this one _Blaster Fire_ ,” she joked, gazing at the doodle with an amused smirk as she showed it off to Din. “It’s gallery worthy, don't you think?”

He smiled beneath the helmet and watched as River brought it over to the hallway near their room. Two other drawings were already hung up there with spare med tape. The first one was a purple-and-yellow squiggle that looked vaguely like a tauntaun doing a push-up; the other was a smattering of black and grey dots and streaks that reminded River of those first gut-tumbling seconds of light speed. She smiled as she added _Blaster Fire_ to the display.

Din felt a little guilty as he watched his foundling play and create in the belly of his ship. For one, he knew this life - growing up without a real home, throttling through the galaxy, always suspended a hair’s breadth from total peril - was not meant for a youngling. But beyond that, a shameful part of him hoped the child never offered _any_ hint of where his people were hidden. Din knew he wouldn’t be able to say goodbye.

A thought dawned on him, creeping slow and yet lighting his mind ablaze all at once. That fear - of giving him up, of knowing a bittersweet parting laid inevitable just past the horizon - was why he hadn’t given the child a name.

The sound of the kid’s happy babbles pulled Din back into the present. Proudly, the baby clutched a drawing in his pudgy claws, holding it up for his father to admire.

Three blobs of color stood side-by-side on the page. One tiny and green, one big and silver, and the third, a curtain of black, sized somewhere in the middle.

River tucked her raven hair behind her ear as she leaned in to take a peek at the kid’s impromptu art show. She oohed and ahhh-ed and made a big gesture of complimenting his efforts, asking him who was who in the pretty picture. He responded enthusiastically, pointing his little fingers between the page and their bodies as River beamed at him.

Din remembered being a foundling, how his parents’ brilliant smiles would stretch wide across their faces as they watched him play. He remembered feeling safe and cared for.

An echo of a memory. A sharp sting behind his eyes - one he hadn’t felt in decades. He was thankful for the helmet. It hid how the beginnings of tears, misty and longing, formed like morning dew and blurred his vision.

———

Din decided to be alone as he piloted his way out of the debris field. It gave him some time to clear his head, though he never would have admitted that out loud. Under the guise of mild concern for the hyperdrive, he politely requested the cockpit to himself, to which River graciously obliged. He left her and the kid in the galley to finish their meals and carry on doodling.

After the second quick jump, things were — not feeling right. He ran a diagnostic scan, which came back with reports of elevated pressure and temperature levels in the engine bay. Not ideal, but not unexpected with this sort of navigation. He recalled the burning smell, like hot metal and electricity, that River noticed when they landed on the lone moon. He tried not to let paranoia eat away at him and focused back on flying.

There were two more rings left. Fuel was injecting fine according to the readouts. If the hyperdrive could just hold on until the end of the second ring, they’d be golden. On their way to the next stop —

The next stop. Din exhaled, stretched his neck side to side while he kept his eyes trained on the looming debris field. He was obligated to continue. Held to his word by the Creed.

The only thing harder than solving the child’s mystery was finding the strength to keep pushing forward, knowing how the journey would end. He’d given up so much for his foundling; risked everything. Would stopping now - settling somewhere quiet and hidden and safe - be such a bad thing?

His brain stewed as he smoothly worked his way through the floating rubble, letting the methodical process flow through him like an undercurrent of static. Eventually, open space hung ahead of him - distant stars ready to be shot backwards around the ship for a few teeth-grinding minutes. Din plugged in the calculations and pulled the lever, letting his head tip back with the force of the ship’s movement.

He stared out ahead, thinking of the kid’s drawings hanging on the wall. Blues and blacks and reds.

The navcomp beeped as the ship buoyed out of hyper speed, still a good five minutes from the start of the next ring. Din checked the diagnostics again, convinced himself the hot metal smell he swore creeped past the filter of his helmet was actually a figment of his worried imagination.

A flicker of movement towards the left caught his eye. Something jutted out quickly from the cloud of detritus, moving too fast to be part of the environment.

His heart slammed against his ribs. A smuggler ship, headed straight for them, its cannons primed and poised. The Crest’s com panel lit up, producing a blue holo of a woman Din swore he’d seen before.

“Mandalorian! You have two options,” she snarled, only her mouth and chin visible beneath the oversized hood of her cloak.

“What do you want?” he grumbled, feigning boredom as he switched power to his defense shields and began charging the twin blaster cannons. Sly and whipfast, he thumbed over to the ship intercom.

“Get up here _now_ ,” he spat into the receiver. “Bring the kid.”

The woman spoke again, “Your kriffing head, you murderous thief. You _and_ that dumb cunt River.”

Din’s blood ran ice cold as the pieces shuffled and shifted into place in his brain. This woman — she was the woman from the outpost, the one who’d been following them. The cockpit door whooshed open, revealing River with the baby in her arms. Her face was pinched in confusion.

“Sit down, buckle him with you.”

River clamored for the copilot’s seat and wrapped herself into the restraints, pulling them taut against both her and the kid’s bodies. She left him tucked against her chest, her hand placed protectively on the back of his head.

“What’s going on?”

“We’ve been followed,” he said grimly, gripping the controls and engaging the forward thrusters. The ship bucked in response as the debris field drew closer with increasing speed. He flipped back to the external com.

“You said I had options,” Din replied to the holo. “You gonna tell me those?”

The woman pulled back the hood, revealing her face. River couldn’t believe it. It was one of the girls - one of the gang members’ girlfriends from the night Din captured Rhet.

“It’s simple, Mando. You either hand yourselves over to me, or I turn you into another piece of space junk,” she spat, eyes narrowed and full of fury. “Your crusty old ship would make a nice addition to the scenery, don’t you think?”

Din grunted and shut off the com.

“Only way out of here is through,” he grunted over his shoulder to River. “Hold on.”

He increased the Crest’s speed and swerved past spinning hunks of rock and durasteel, cutting a winding and unpredictable path through the debris cloud. The gang ship kept up, matching Din’s movements. The woman was a skilled pilot.

A streak of red blaster fire blew past the left side of the cockpit and landed square in the middle of a mass of ancient planetary crust. The dried earth exploded into jagged, splintered shards, scraping along the sides of the ship. River gasped and instinctively wrapped herself tighter around the baby.

“What do we do?”

Din readjusted his grip on the directional thrusters and shimmied the stress out of his muscles.

“Either eliminate her or escape,” he said evenly. His eyes darted over to the hyperdrive diagnostics. It still was reading hot - too hot to engage.

Another blaster bolt zipped past the cockpit and clipped the side of a rusted durasteel slab. It spun wildly towards them, forcing Din to dive down abruptly. River felt her stomach fly up into the bottom of her throat. The baby squealed.

“Listen to me,” Din said, determination ruddying the edges of his low baritone. “We can’t get to lightspeed.”

_“What?!”_

“Give me the kid,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m going to evade up then back down, try to throw her off our path. The _second_ I do that, go below deck.”

“Din—”

“You ever depressurize a hyperdrive?”

Her mouth opened and snapped shut, stunned into silence as she blinked down at the kid.

_“River.”_

“N-no, I—”

Din reached back and unbuckled her restraint with one hand.

“You are today. Turn the socket wrench over the valve bolt until it hisses.”

River got up out of the seat and placed the kid into Din’s outstretched arm.

“How will I know wh—”

“You’ll know,” he asserted. “Go. You can do it.”

River swallowed her uncertainty and swung herself over the ladder, white-knuckling the rungs as the gravitational force of Din’s evasive maneuver tried to lift her body airborne. When her boots made contact with the swaying deck, she tore into the mech cabinet and crammed every gauge of wrench available into the pockets of her utility pants. When she ran out of pockets, she shoved them down the back of her waistband and made her way to the engine bay hatch.

The air was oppressively hot below deck, dry and rippling like a coal-fired oven. She squinted into it as the steel grating rattled beneath her boots. The hyperdrive was glowing an angry shade red from overuse. She eyeballed the bolt on the side, comparing them to socket wrenches as she pulled them from her clothing. On her third try, she finally found the tool that coupled perfectly. Heat immediately began to radiate up the wrench’s metal handle as she muscled into the effort of twisting the bolt loose.

The fucking thing wasn’t budging. She put her whole body weight into it, felt her hands slipping with sweat around the polished tool.

“Shit,” she grumbled under her breath. She wiped her hands on her pants, returned them to the task. She recoiled instantly, the tool now too hot to handle. “ _Shit!”_

River tore her shirt over her shoulders and wrapped it around the tool, using it as a makeshift glove. The heat was tolerable through the layers of fabric. Again, she put every ounce of strength in her body behind the movement, trying so desperately to turn the bolt - just a little bit, just enough to release some pressure, _just enough to —_

The wrench slipped up barely an inch, letting out a stream of air that rattled and rang loud through the metallic underbelly of the ship. River scrambled back and stared wide-eyed at the hyperdrive valve, watched as a steady push of pressure leaked from the angry red opening.

Was it enough? Din said she would know. How the hell was she supposed to know?

She hesitantly moved back towards the wrench and bolt, swaying and stumbling with the erratic motions of the ship. Again, she wrapped her hand around the old shirt and _pushed_ , tensing every muscle and tendon to force the damn thing open another inch

She strained and grunted, sweat pouring from her pores in the impossible heat, until she felt another bit of give beneath her palm.

“Yes, yes, _yes, yesss!”_ she exclaimed, pushing more and more, pushing with the equally hot fire in her belly.

Suddenly with a massive lurch, the ship dipped backwards, sending her flying into the rear wall. Everything grew quiet.

They fucking did it. They were in hyperspace. Exhausted, relieved laughter wracked her ribs. They fucking did it. They _fucking_ —

She wiped her brow, unwound her ruined shirt from the tool, and bounded back up into the hull. Din was waiting for her there, shoulders pressed back and chest open expectantly. The kid was nowhere in sight, probably still up in the cockpit or put somewhere safe.

The grin on River’s face was wide and proud and wild, crinkling the corners of her eyes. Steaks of black engine grease had dirtied her hands and forehead, melting slowly into the beaded sweat on her skin. She kept up that breathless laughing as he walked towards her, watching as she plucked the unused wrenches from her pockets and waistband.

“Din, _stars_ ,” she panted through her beaming smile. “I wish you could’ve seen that — I couldn’t get it to _budge,_ fucking _Maker_ that was —”

His gloved palm collided with her eyes, clamping them shut while his other ripped the helmet from his head. She heard it thud loudly against the deck, jumping back just slightly at the surprise.

Before she could say anything, his lips were on her, crashing his mouth against hers. It was fire and heat and pressure, escape and chaos, two fighters clinging to each other as the world burned around them. With a gasping sigh, Din tore himself from her and wound her old shirt over her eyes, tying it tight.

Right there in the hull, with waves of steam and overheated air still rolling up from the lower deck, he made love to her as if they might never be able to again. He trembled with the power of it, of how much he would do for her, of how he would gun down every single threat that ever dared to try them.

He loved her.

He didn’t know how to say it, didn’t know where to begin. So he showed her. He poured it onto her, like the heat of the brightest star, warming her until he swore she was glowing.


	6. Love

River had dedicated more time than she’d like to admit imagining how she’d die. She somehow knew, even after hiding away from him for so long, that Rhet would be the cause of it.

_“You’ll be the death of me.”_

She always felt weird about that particular saying. She could feel the cogs in her brain grate and scrape together as she tried to make sense of it. She couldn’t seem to bridge the universally understood loving sentiment with the bleak, cold acknowledgement of mortality - of a single person being responsible for the bounding joy of life and the final embrace of death. It made her feel uneasy - equally overpowered and helpless - every time she heard it or said it herself. Yet she’d said it and heard it more times than she could remember.

The ringing in her ears had grown so persistently loud and had gone on for so long that it became normal, like a foul smell your nose eventually acclimates to. How long had she been lying there? The duracrete floor was still beneath her - she knew that much - but it didn’t feel the way she knew it should. It was soft like clouds, holding her body suspended in space as if floating.

Time slowed and stretched unnaturally. She tried to count her heartbeats but couldn’t seem to feel them in her chest.

She remembered an old passage she read on some lonely night, tucked away in her spartan room on Horuz. It said that nothing ever ends poetically. It just ends; we are the ones who turn it into poetry.

Maybe this was it. Maybe she really was dead, after all this time and all her best efforts. She tried to feel for blood but found she couldn’t move her arms. After a moment of silent, still struggle, she gave herself over to it, letting herself slip into the peace and calm of total finality.

It was familiar, this feeling of letting go. Her mind had gone soft and fuzzy like this many times, when his fists rained down on her like a violent meteor shower.

Poetry again. Even now, when nothing should be beautiful.

Just as she imagined - just as she’d whispered in his ear a hundred thousand times - this was all his fault. A ghost of sensation fluttered between her fingers as she remembered the feeling of it - of brushing his black hair behind the curved peak of his ear, of safely tucking it there as the words fell like crushed petals from her lips.

_You’ll be the death of me._

———

Din turned the filtration setting up on his helmet as he watched her. The chemical, stinging smell of her hair dye was making him feel lightheaded.

“I don’t know how you manage,” he said, leaning against the doorframe of the refresher.

It was curious to him, how he’d never really pictured her with her natural hair color. It was a silvery, ashy blonde, so different from the harsh black she dyed it to.

The ship was hanging in orbit above a far Outer Rim trading outpost, awaiting clearance into a fueling bay. Last week’s escape from the dogfight outside the debris field drained a large portion of their reserves, and credits were getting tight again. Yet another planet - any icy tundra where they’d wrapped themselves in the thick furs and coats he’d bought secondhand before their trip - was a dead end for reuniting the kid with his people.

Din hadn’t accepted an order for a bounty in a long time. He knew he couldn’t keep that up forever. He needed the credits for several reasons, mostly to keep up his search for the child’s home. But he also wanted to take River away somewhere again - somewhere nice, with a real bed and good food, not these chalky nutritive bars they were stuck eating. He wanted to breathe and relax and lay his armor down, if only for a brief moment. He wanted to hold the kid for a while, watch him laugh and play, pretend for a moment that they wouldn’t have to say goodbye one day.

River flashed him a crooked smirk and slathered on another glop of dye to her hairline. “Manage what? Being this impossibly hot?”

He returned to himself and let out a playful snort. “I mean the smell.”

“I’ve been coloring it for well over a year. It doesn’t bother me anymore,” she shrugged.

As she continued to work, applying the dye to her lighter root regrowth, River could sense Din tensing beside her. She had a feeling he wouldn’t open up without a little gentle prodding.

“You okay?” she asked, keeping her hands casually occupied with her task.

Din hesitated, resetting his posture as he moved away from the door frame. He came to stand behind her, watching her reflection in the mirror.

“You —” he broke off with a sigh, unsure of his words. “You know if — if you don’t… _want_ to dye it, you don’t have t—”

“I want to,” she said with certitude, squaring her eyes directly onto his in the mirror.

A beat passed between them as they looked at each other. She’d grown used to the blankness of the visor and instead had learned to tap into his physical cues - the downward slope of a shoulder or the subtle turn of his neck. Sometimes, when a small exhalation of breath was too faint even for the vocoder to register, she could catch a fleeting glimmer of light against his chest plating as it shifted over his ribs.

“You don’t have to hide yourself anymore,” he said quietly.

River looked down and nodded, scrubbing her hands against a tattered old rag on the sink’s ledge.

“I know,” she swallowed thickly, now unsure of her own words.

Din reached out carefully, softly placing his gloved hand against the back of her elbow. He squeezed gently and slipped from the refresher, leaving her to finish up.

When she eventually emerged from the lower deck, she felt fresh and new - brighter and fiercer, refined like a sharpened blade - and relished the weightless feeling of passing over new horizons like air. As her hair dried, revealing the results of her dye job, she thought about change.

Everything was so different for her, ever since the day she stepped onto this ship. She felt empowered and brave and loved. Every part of her sang with strength, standing poised like a rested muscle, transformed from sustained motion and ready for further challenge. The blaster strapped to her hip was lighter, like it had become a part of her body, no longer a foreign mass she needed to learn to accept. Her arms pulled her fluidly up the ladder.

She felt a belonging - a belonging that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Maybe since she was a little girl, if she was being fiercely honest.

Din was seated in the captain’s chair, piloting the _Crest_ down towards the open fueling dock. The trading outpost was small but busy, a product of the lack of options while this far out from the developed systems.

Greef Karga’s holo was up on the comm display. River caught the tail end of their conversation - something about sending coordinates to Din’s encoded line.

“What was that about?” she asked, settling into the co-pilot’s chair.

“There’s a smuggler’s camp just outside the area. I can pick up some easy work.”

River hummed and looked pensively out of the viewport. She remembered how coolly menacing Din looked when he’d picked her up on Horuz. It was hard to draw the parallel between his gritty profession and the soft, vulnerable parts of him that he’d shown her - but it wasn’t impossible.

Din spoke again, “We’re a team now, River. I’ve taught you enough to keep the ship and the kid secure for a few days.”

A wave of pride swelled within her. He trusted her to be strong, to be a defender, and she had finally caught up to thinking of herself that way too.

“I can do it,” she said with a confident grin.

“I know,” he answered, his smile matching hers beneath the helmet.

———

The fueling stall was dirty, operated by a rusty old service droid. River had insisted on getting the intake valves cranked open and coupled with the fuel lines herself, leaving Din to meet with a shady-looking Quarren that had recognized the _Crest_ as it pulled in. They stood far off to the side of the fuel bay, near the entryway into the outpost’s common area.

River leaned up against the landing gear of the Crest and tried her best to look like she wasn’t eavesdropping. Din and the Quarren were talking business - how Greef’s pot of available bounties had grown thin and stale since shit went down with the Empire. It sounded like they knew each other, but River knew Din’s inflections well enough to sense they weren’t friends, or anything close to it. His answers were clipped and blunt - more than usual.

River took her time paying the bay droid and coiling the fuel lines back into their housing, trying to catch the end of their conversation.

“Can’t trust anybody nowadays, can ya, Mando?” the Quarren grumbled with a wink, roughly shaking Din’s hand as they parted. Din stayed silent, held tight as a hallikset string while the other hunter’s beady eyes slid over to River. The Quarren leaned in towards Din, smirking at him as he muttered something under his breath. All she could make out was “handle your hose” before she saw Din coiling his fists tight.

“Watch your mouth,” he spat venomously, turning away from the alien to trudge back towards the ship. “Before I put my boot in it.”

River caught her cue to go and reeled into action, scrambling up the ramp behind Din. He grabbed her elbow, steering her ahead of him and shielding her from the other hunter, before he locked up the hatch.

“Who was that?” she asked, scrunching her face up in disgust and curiosity.

“Solum. We used to run jobs together,” he said with an aggressive grunt. “He’s an untrustworthy fuck. Always has been.”

River nodded, deciding based on his tone not to pry. Din was still impossibly tense. His shoulders were held high and tight around his neck, the pauldrons nearly grazing the bottom of his helm. He stood at the hold’s control panel for a moment before speaking again.

“I won’t stand for _anyone_ talking about you like that,” he said with surety. “Like—like you’re some —” he broke off with an exasperated huff.

River shushed him soothingly, reaching out to wrap her arms around his waist.

“Let's just get out of here,” she whispered.

Din turned in her arms and touched his forehead to hers. Her lashes fluttered closed as his chest expanded with a grounding breath.

“Come on, hothead” she said sweetly, patting his chestplate. “Maybe I can even swing us out of here while you take a rest.”

Din watched as she unwound herself from his arms and disappeared up the cockpit ladder. He thought about following her up to supervise takeoff, but decided against it.

She could do it. He knew she could.

———

This planet had to be her least favorite yet. Could she even call it a planet? It sustained no natural life - just scrap heaps of garbage and decrepit old buildings. The _Razor Crest_ was parked in a pay lot outside of the main hub of town. It felt as scummy as it looked.

Din had been gone nearly a full day at this point. River wasn’t worried; he’d promised up and down that she didn’t need to be. But — she was a little uneasy, if she was being honest. There was something about the people here that made her skin crawl, that made her feel like she was always being watched.

She’d only left the ship once to pick up snacks and ale at the nearby general store. The kid was bundled in a sling across her chest, hidden completely from any curious observers. They were in smuggler territory, after all, and the Quarren’s words kept echoing in her head. _You can’t trust anybody._

At least the ale was keeping her brain fuzzy enough to forget the nagging loneliness and worry - okay, fine, maybe she _was_ worried - and the dehydrated fish skin snack was crispy enough to please the child. He’d recently and fervently decided that “crunch” was his new favorite texture, and fussed at the usual chewy ration bars or creamed nutritive slop they served him in the galley.

“Don’t ever say I didn’t spoil you,” she teased, winking at him as he thoroughly dusted himself with stinky crumbs. “What do you want to watch?”

River pulled her datapad out from her kit bag and thumbed through the entertainment options. “Any preferences? Comedy, drama?”

The kid babbled a few serious syllables, clearly mimicking his father.

“Documentary it is, kiddo,” she nodded, pulling up a piece on the Clone Wars, bone-dry enough to thoroughly knock them out for the night.

He waddled up into her lap, snuggling in until he found just the right spot. River smiled down at him and popped the top of her next can of ale.

“S’ not so bad without him, huh?” she joked, brushing some crumbs off his coat. “Like a little slumber party.”

He quirked his ears and smiled up at her before turning back to the glowing datapad. In fifteen minutes, they were both out cold, lulled to sleep by the narrator’s prim and proper droning.

———

River woke up to the static of her handheld com. Din told her only to contact him in extreme emergencies, and that he would do the same. Her heart immediately plummeted into her stomach.

“River —” the device crackled with his voice. “Hey, River, come in.”

He sounded fine. Calm even. She knit her brows together and brought the device to her mouth, shifting around the snoring kid carefully.

“I’m here,” she whispered. “What’s wrong?”

His gentle sigh came through as a muffled burst of double-modulated noise. “Nothing’s wrong. How are you? The kid?”

“We were sleeping. You have the quarry yet?”

“Not yet,” he paused. “I need another day, hopefully not more than that.”

“Okay,” she nodded. An update was good. Total silence would’ve worried her even further. “We’re doing fine here. We’re safe.”

“Good,” he said, his relief so clear it was nearly tangible. “I miss you. Both of you.”

She smiled, hugged the child closer. “We miss you, too. Just be careful.”

“I will. Go back to sleep.”

“Alright. I lov—” she caught herself, cutting the word off quickly. “I hope you get some sleep too. If you can. Uh— if that’s— ah,” she stammered, cringing into a flustered, embarrassed smile. “Okay. Goodnight.”

Fuck. _Fuck,_ she nearly _kriffing_ said it to him, for the _first time_ , over a com. A fucking handheld _com_ , of all Maker-forsaken things.

“Goodnight, _cyar’ika_ ,” he said warmly, ending the call.

Several klicks away, hidden in the shadowed corner of a seedy cantina, Din Djarin blushed beneath his helmet.

She loved him. He could hardly believe it.

———

They were bored. Impossibly bored - the kind of bored that made you lash out from boredom. The kid refused to eat anything other than the fish chips River bought him the day before. He kept pointing grumpily at the empty bag, pouting and whining as she tried and failed to spoon-feed him his soupy dinner.

“Little man, you haven’t eaten at all today,” she said, hovering the spoon in front of his tiny mouth. “A hunger strike is not gonna work on me.”

He turned his nose up at the food with a defiance she’d never seen from him.

“This is what I get for treating you,” she grumbled to herself. “Come on,” she tipped the spoon’s ledge past his lip. “Eat.”

He spit the food to the side, splattering it along the top of the galley table. River tamped down her frustration and looked him in his big black eyes.

“That was rude,” she chided.

He whooped out a clipped, musical huff in response. It was cute enough that she almost laughed. Almost. Her frown softened.

“Look,” she said, cleaning up his slobbery mess. “If I get you more fish chips, will you eat some of this too? You can’t live off junk, kiddo. No matter how good it tastes.”

The baby’s face lit up with excitement at getting what he wanted. He clapped his little clawed hands together in celebration. River rolled her eyes playfully.

“Stay right here,” she warned. “I’m gonna run across the street. Real quick. Okay?”

He babbled gleefully and rested onto his bottom, kicking his tiny feet out in front of him. River holstered her blaster and slid the last of their small-credit chips in her pocket before unlocking the hold’s side door.

As she turned around to lock back up, a low, familiar voice sounded behind her. She froze in place, every hair on her neck standing straight up in horror.

“Mesa,” Rhet cooed, venom dripping from his lips. “How lovely to see you.”

She turned to him, unable to hide the shock she felt at seeing him again. He was supposed to be dead, or nearly dead, toiling away in some horrible spice mine. His hair was clipped short, and he looked so pale and gaunt that he was nearly unrecognizable. He reminded her of a ghost, or a demon - like a shell of himself, when he was already so hollow to begin with.

“Get away from me,” she spat, voice trembling with terror. She reached for the blaster at her hip, squeezing the handle as hard as she could.

“No,” he said with a smirk. “I don’t think I will. You know why?” he paused, creeping towards her. “I have spent every second of every day — every credit to my name — every bit of effort that I have — trying to find you.”

River swallowed back the rising bile in her throat and backed away from him. The cold hull of the _Razor Crest_ thudded against her back.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch me,” she snarled, gritting her teeth through the beginnings of tears that stung the backs of her eyes.

“Or what?” he chuckled quietly. He licked his lips as he glanced down at her weapon. “You’ll shoot me?”

“How — how did you find me?”

Rhet smiled - the same menacing, condescending grin he’d flash whenever they fought - and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. She shivered, pulling her face as far from his touch as she could.

“Maker, you really are as stupid as I remember,” he murmured. “Flying around with a Mandalorian makes you easy to spot. You’ve forgotten how many people I know — the connections I have…”

River thought about the Quarren at the fuel depot. Was that one of his sources?

“Do you really think you’ll ever escape me?” he asked.

River stared into his eyes - the same dark eyes that had captivated her and tormented her for so long. She felt her mind calm itself, as if a switch had flipped deep in her chest.

She didn’t hesitate. She lunged at him.

Caught off guard, Rhet stumbled backwards and swung wide to retaliate. River ducked and threw her full weight against his lower body, knocking him to the dirty ground. She scrambled back and straightened up while he sputtered for air at her feet.

“Worthless,” he coughed. “If you really wanted to hurt me, you’d just use that blaster.”

“Fuck you,” she shouted, pulling it from her holster.

Rhet started laughing as he picked himself up off the ground. “You even know how to use that old thing?” he sneered, spitting to the side. The smug grin on his face roiled the raging fire in her belly.

“I know exactly how to use it,” she said resolutely. She thumbed off the safety and raised it towards him.

“Then do it,” he taunted. He spread his arms wide and leered at her, stepping closer and closer until the barrel touched the center of his chest. “Go on.”

Sweat prickled along her brow as she readjusted the weapon in her grip. It suddenly felt too heavy, like it was trying to pull her arms down and surrender.

“Do it!” he screamed, making River flinch back in shock. He laughed, maniacal and loud. “You _can’t,_ can you? You hate me, and you still can’t do it. You still can’t pull the trigger.”

Rhet grabbed the blaster by the barrel and forced her arms up. She squeezed the trigger, letting loose a short laser blast straight into the air. River yelped and tried to wrestle her arms back down, until Rhet kneed her in the gut. The blaster clattered from her hands as she crumpled to the ground. He was swift, scooping it up right in front of her.

“Awww,” he teased. “You dropped it.”

River was doubled over on the ground, desperately trying to pull air into her lungs.

“You wanna know the difference between me and you?” he asked, backing away from her with an evil glint in his eye. He flipped the blaster around in his hands, appraising it.

“You’re vile,” she rasped.

Rhet chuckled under his breath. “Nah,” he grinned. “I know when to pull the trigger.”

A flash. A roaring in her ears, followed by searing hot pain. Then it all went dark.

Just as Rhet fired his shot, Din came swooping in off a speeder bike, launching himself from the seat and charging full speed towards him. The Mandalorian unloaded a spray of laser fire in his direction, knocking River’s blaster askew in his hand right at the moment of fire.

Din did not miss. Not on that first immobilizing shot, and not on the one aimed straight at Rhet’s head.

River laid on the filthy floor of the parking lot with a blazing gash of cauterized flesh missing from her side. Din roared - some feral sound he’d never heard himself make before - and scooped her into his arms.

This couldn’t happen. No, _no._ He felt for a pulse and found a weak one, and shuddered in relief when he saw that she was breathing. She was alive, she was _alive,_ thank the Maker above, she wasn’t going to leave him. Hurriedly, he carried her into the cargo hold and laid her with care onto the deck, moving quickly to tear his medical supplies from their storage cabinet.

Din was so grateful that they’d had the sense to stock up on so many forms of bacta before their trip started. He ripped into a fresh packet of sanitizing gel and began prepping a stim shot to get her conscious. His brain and body worked together with focused speed and efficiency, flying high off of pure adrenaline. He was willing to do anything - anything to help her heal, to take the pain away, to let her know without a shadow of doubt that he loved her and would never let something like this happen again.

When he turned back around to start working, he froze solid in his tracks. The child was bent over beside her, his small clawed hand outstretched and hovering above her wound. His eyes were sealed shut in concentration, twitching and trembling with effort as he used his power to heal her nearly instantly.

“Kid,” Din choked out, falling to his knees next to him. He watched in wonder as the charred muscle and flesh smoothed itself, growing fresh, healthy tissue over it as if by magic.

“Stop,” he said to the child. “Please, hey, don’t overdo it.”

He had bacta. He had stims. He didn’t need to suffer the gnawing ache of seeing his foundling collapse with exhaustion from this.

The child removed his hand and blinked weakly up at Din before thumping onto his rear end. He shook his head side to side, making his large ears shake and jiggle.

He didn’t pass out. He looked back up at his father with wide, bright eyes that grew more alert with each passing moment. Din felt the tension begin to loosen from his body. His foundling - this wild, unexplainable green mystery - was growing in his power, right before Din’s eyes.

“You alright?” he asked, and got a tiny nod in return.

River coughed, pulling both of their attention to her. Din shuffled up to cradle her head in his lap, gently stroking her hair from her face.

“Din,” she said softly. “Oh, gods. What — kriff,” she grimaced, still feeling the effects of hitting her head on the ship lot’s floor. “What happened?”

“Rhet shot you,” he said, looking down at her wound.

“I know that,” she shook her head. “But—”

“So I killed him.”

River blinked up at him, feeling a thousand things at once and not knowing which to lean into.

“This little womp rat saved you,” Din said, tilting his helmet towards the child.

He squeaked in pride, perking his ears up joyously. River didn’t know what to say, so she landed on a swear.

“Fuck,” she huffed - full of confusion and relief and most of all, a glowing, unbounding love.

 _Love_. She had to tell him. It couldn’t wait. Not anymore.

She thought about the first time she realized it. It was on the ice planet, when Din was tucking the kid’s ears up into a large sock he’d stretched over his head. It was silly - the kind of ridiculous thing that she wished she had a portable holorecorder for, so she could look back and laugh at it years from now.

That was when she knew it, without any doubt. When she realized she wanted to do this - to be with Din, and laugh and explore - for years.

Maybe forever.

Her wide eyes sparkled up at him playing back these special memories. She licked her lips over a slowly spreading smile.

“I love you,” they said - both of them - at the very same moment, like binary stars forming from the same nebula, like a call into the vast, black void that is answered, like taking a leap and finding that you had wings all along.

“I love you,” she said again, pulling herself up to throw her arms around his neck.

Din collected her into the safe harbor of his arms, feeling her laugh and tremble against him.

“I love you,” he repeated.

The child tugged at Din’s pants leg and hoisted himself up to wedge between their bellies. He babbled up at them, showing off a row of teeth.

“We love you too, kiddo,” River giggled through tears, patting his wrinkled head.

Din held both of them, safe and warm in the fortress of his ship. He hadn’t felt this - this gentle peace, this deep belonging - since he was a child himself. He didn’t think himself capable of it, or anyone in the galaxy capable of giving it to him. How wrong he’d been.

“I don’t want to, but,” Din sighed heavily after a moment, “I actually have to get up.”

River whined in protest. “But this is so nice.”

“I know,” he softly grunted, shifting back up to his feet. “I’ve got a bounty unconscious and strapped to a speeder outside. Give me two minutes.”

River laughed and took Din’s outstretched hand, pulling herself up to her feet.

“How do you feel?” he asked skeptically, standing nearby in case her balance faltered.

“Good, actually,” she shrugged. “Weirdly good.”

“Nice work,” Din nodded down to the kid, pivoting on his heel to fire up the carbonite freezer and fetch his quarry from outside.

River watched him go, how his lean, warrior’s frame carried him confidently across the lot. A blush creeped across her face, knowing he was all hers.

She looked down at her shredded shirt and pulled it up to get a better look at her blaster wound. Incredibly, she looked brand new - no bruising. Hells, there wasn’t even a scar. Her lips quirked up into a sly smirk at that - how for the entire time she knew him, Rhet had tried everything to mark her, to try and lay claim to something he had no right to. But even in death, he failed.

And she won, against all odds.

She won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy S2 premiere week! I have one fluffy, smutty epilogue chapter planned after this, and no plans to continue this series beyond that. Thanks to all for going on this journey with me! That rat bastard Rhet finally got what he deserved! Though I would love to hear about his strategy for breaking out of a gang-run spice mine.
> 
> If you enjoy masked badasses to the same degree I do and have been playing Star Wars: Squadrons, please visit my profile and read my latest work, “Loyalty.” It’s an indulgent, three-chapter layer cake of Shen/Reader, currently updated to chapter two for your viewing pleasure.
> 
> Again, thanks for being here!


	7. Moonlight

The sun began its slow dip towards the horizon, casting a shimmering sheen across the tiny waves. They gently slapped a haphazard rhythm against the hull of the boat, like lazy palms striking the head of a drum.

The kid loudly suckled on the last of his shrimp shells, eagerly seeking out every last morsel. River scrunched up her nose and squinted into the sunset. The skin of her shoulders felt comfortably taut, tanned and dried by the day’s brilliant sunshine and salted air.

A whole month. She still could hardly believe Din was willing to lay low for that long, to put his searching and hunting on pause to just — breathe.

The three of them had been living on a modest solar and wind powered sailboat for nearly a week now. It was a surprise for her, when Din had navigated the Razor Crest down onto this planet with no fanfare or explanation.

 _“Where are we?”_ she had asked, peering out at the lush greens and blues, the dormant volcanoes, the jungles and beaches. _“This place isn’t on our list.”_

 _“It’s not,”_ he’d answered simply. After landing, they packed a small crate full of supplies and made off for the dockyard.

He told her three things: the budget, the length of their stay, and that she got to pick the rental boat. He didn’t miss the watery smile she’d tried to hide from him as he urged her down the wooden dock, nudging her forward to explore the options.

River stretched her legs in front of her on the ship’s smooth white deck and flexed her toes as she took a deep, contented breath. The baby climbed up into her lap.

“All done?” she asked.

He cooed a quiet yes and snuggled down in the valley between her knees, resting his tiny head atop her shin. Behind her, a hollow thud of bare feet drew closer as Din emerged from the inside cabin.

His chest drew tight at the sight that greeted him: River and his foundling, sprawled out to watch another perfect sunset. It was so peaceful here, quiet and safe - a life of simple pleasures, of small adventures and exploration. A place where the kid could learn and play, and he and River were free to sink deeper in love.

Before he’d been rescued and raised by Mandalorians, Din had hazy memories of moments like this - idyllic summer evenings by the water, with his mother and father. Even after everything - after war and unspeakable tragedy, after swearing the Creed and living his days inside the sheltered walls of his covert - he bore witness to small moments of familial tenderness just like this one.

He’d never longed for it like he did now.

River’s head turned slightly to the side as she heard him draw nearer.

“You’re a better cook than you let on,” she complimented with a wry smile.

“Don't flatter me,” he dismissed, kneeling down to sit beside her. He’d ditched the armor today, instead opting for a set of practical utility pants and a worn cotton undershirt. “The shrimp are that good on their own.”

She hummed and scooted closer to him, tucking up underneath his arm. The baby clambered over her knee to lay across both their laps. Din nudged her cheek with the side of his helmet, wishing it wasn’t in the way. He wanted to see the oranges and reds paint the sky, to press a kiss to her forehead and to the child’s.

The kid slowly drifted to sleep along with the sun, having thoroughly worn himself out with a day of play along the shore.

“I’ll put him to bed,” Din said. “Don’t get up yet.”

“I’ll clean up dinner,” River offered, drawing her leg up to stand.

“It’s done.” He settled her back down with a gentle push. “I’ll be right back.”

River readjusted herself against the deck, feeling new spots of warmth as her palms pressed flat to its surface. It was balmy here, enough to make her silently worry if Din was comfortable under his helm. When he abandoned his outer armor after the first day or two - after his guard had lowered enough - River found herself staring too long at the column of his throat, like the lines of his neck might tell some secrets about his face.

Darkness was quickly blanketing the watery landscape, giving way to a sky of twinkling stars. Two moons hung bright and high - one a soft lavender and the other blushed pink.

Din’s muted footsteps echoed behind her once more.

“Will you swim with me?” he asked, extending out an ungloved hand.

River hesitated and knit her brows together. “Is that a good idea? I read that the sea life here hunts at night.. I don’t— _oof._ ”

Din grabbed her hand, pulling her forward an inch along the deck. She stayed stubbornly seated.

“Scan came up clean. Nothing to worry about,” he reassured her. “No Peeping Toms around, either.”

He tugged at her wrist again, the same way the kid tugs at his pants leg when he wants attention.

“Din…” she quietly protested.

“What?” he ribbed with a teasing drawl, cocking his helmet to the side. “Are you scared?”

“Don’t wanna get eaten. Plus, fear isn’t a bad thing _all_ the time,” she smirked, giving in to his urgent pulling. “A little self-preservation can go a long way.”

Din scoffed playfully as she pushed up onto her feet.

She was right, though. After all, wasn’t it fear that brought her here? It was fear that fueled her escape from Nar Shaddaa, from Rhet’s abuse. Fear brought her to Din and to the child.

Maybe a little bit of fear wasn’t so bad.

Din peeled his shirt over his shoulders, tossing it to the side before unzipping and stepping out of his pants. River blushed, unused to seeing him so bare out in the open like this. She copied his motions, stripping off her own clothes, until they both stood naked - save for his helmet - at the stern of the ship.

Din went first, descending the pitted metal ladder into the inky black water.

“It’s still so warm,” he commented up towards her. “Come on.”

River scanned the surface of the gentle waves as if her eyes might show her something the helmet missed - a strange current, a peek of dorsal fins or forked tails. With a small sigh, she tamped down her apprehension and scaled down the ladder.

Din wasn’t lying. The water felt incredible, still retaining heat from the daytime sun. She felt more of her worry evaporate as the water rose to her shoulders, and she pushed off the lowest rung.

“Good?” he checked in on her.

She nodded, reaching blindly for him beneath the water as their arms and legs worked to keep their heads dry.

“There’s a sandbar up ahead,” he said, gesturing in the same direction as the rising pink and purple moons. “Won’t have to tread water.”

River nodded once more and stretched forward to start the short swim, while Din glided ahead of her to lead the way. Occasionally, the front of his helmet dipped down into the small wake created by his arms. River frowned, knowing it couldn’t be comfortable while wet, imagining how much heavier it could be with water-logged padding.

When their toes finally brushed against soft sand, Din circled an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. She watched droplets of seawater roll down his neck and shoulders, pooling in the dips of his collarbones, spilling off to create tiny streams that intersected and forked off across his skin.

“Still scared?” he asked, brushing his knuckles up the length of her spine. She could hear his gentle smile, how it curled at the corners of his lips.

River nervously giggled and drew closer, folding herself into his embrace.

“A little bit,” she confessed. “And if you’d like to keep all your limbs, I’d advise against pulling any pranks.”

“Think you could take me?” he sparred, giving her a light squeeze.

“Yeah,” she chuckled. “All I’d have to do is hold you underwater long enough for that bucket to fill up.”

Din hummed skeptically. “I’d like to see you try.”

A spark of childlike challenge ignited in River. With a devilish grin and swift motions, she pulled her hands from between them and pushed down on the top of Din’s head, while kicking her leg around to knock him off-balance. He stumbled forward into her and went limp, allowing her to continue her takedown.

“Ha!” she exclaimed, pushing him further down until his helmeted head slipped below the surface. With a snicker, she tucked her legs up to press her shins against the top of his back, keeping him held under.

“Not so tough, are ya?” she playfully jeered before being sent flying back into the water with a surprised wail.

When Din and River straightened up, they were both soaked and laughing - River especially, at how much seawater was pouring out of Din’s helmet. She waddled through the stirred water and snaked her hands up underneath the helm’s bottom lip, cupping both sides of his jaw. She could feel his cheeks stretched wide in a smile and wished she could see it.

“You okay under there?” she asked, knocking her forehead against the dark visor. “Swallow any critters?”

Din shook his head and wrapped a hand around her wrist, sliding the wet pads of her fingers over his lips. Their laughter turned to a sweet, silent softness as she traced over them with a feather-light touch.

The pleasant sounds of moving waves and the nearby creaking ship filled the silence as River thought back on their time on Cantonica. The ocean here was so different - natural instead of manmade - and so much more special. It felt like their own private slice of the galaxy here, like it was made just for them and the kid to enjoy.

Din grew still, drawing in a measured breath. River quirked a questioning brow at him.

“You’ve gotten quiet. Did I—”

“Turn around,” Din whispered in interruption, his lips catching over her fingertips. He placed a soft kiss to the wet skin.

With a smile, River slid her hands out from between the beskar and his jaw and turned away from him, facing the glowing moons. She felt the water swirl behind her as Din shuffled nearer.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his helmet - not on him, but empty and clasped in his hand.

“Hold this,” he said, waiting for her to take it, holding it suspended above the rippling, shining water.

Slowly, River reached out and pressed the helmet between her hands, turning it as she looked at its blank visor. Her own reflection stared back, her black hair looking nearly dark blue in the diffused pink and purple light.

Din took a deep breath and came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle. River tilted the helmet away, scared to catch a glimpse of his face in the mirrored surface.

Placing a kiss to the back of her neck, he reached an arm ahead of her and tilted the helmet forward again, facing her straight on. River’s eyes sealed shut.

“Din…” she whispered, leaning her head sideways to turn away from the visor. Her stomach gnarled into a tight fist.

“It’s okay,” he murmured into her wet hair. “Don’t be scared. Open your eyes, _cyare_.”

River squeezed her eyelids tighter together.

“Your creed. I-I can’t see your face,” she stammered. Din could feel her heart running wild beneath her sternum.

“You’re not,” he said calmly. “It’s just my reflection.”

“Din—”

“Open your eyes.”

With a wavering exhale, River turned her head back to center and let her eyelids part. Din’s hand laid across her left one, a steady anchor as she held onto his most important possession. Her gaze moved from his hand on hers to the helmet itself - its fluid lines and hard edges, the sharp angles of its tinted visor.

The reflection wasn’t perfectly clear. She saw everything in slivered fragments, slowly revealed as the last of the water slid off its polished surface.

Her blue-black hair gave way to a deep brown just beside her - a deep brown that wasn’t hers. Din’s hair hung in loose, saturated waves around his face, clinging to the back of his neck. She knew these things well enough - had guessed these features from the feel of his hair between her fingers in the dark, from the times he’d stripped himself to just his helmet and left the lights on.

She found his eyes, warm and earthy brown, framed by a nervously pinched brow. They were searching, staring intensely at her every micro-expression for hidden answers. She saw the crinkled lines around the outside corners - lines formed from smiles and laughter - and said a silent prayer of thanks that the galaxy had been kind enough to show him happiness.

She tilted the helmet to see his lips. Maker, the lips that had kissed her raw in the hull of his ship, the lips that whispered sweet words against her neck every night - they were parted in quiet wonder, giving the smallest glimpse of what was surely a very handsome smile.

She could’ve looked at him like this for hours, gently swaying in the ocean’s current until their skin wrinkled. She knew she had to say something. She couldn’t let this incredible show of faith, this impossibly delicate moment pass without a word of — _something._

“You’re —” she stopped herself, tamping down the tremble in her voice. “So beautiful.”

Din exhaled behind her, sounding equal parts bashful and relieved. He shook his head into the hair at the back of her head, hiding himself like a shy child.

“Can— can you—” he broke off, steadied himself with an even breath. His hand was shaking over hers atop the helmet. She heard him swallow around a lump in his throat.

“Can you turn around?” he asked.

It felt as if the whole galaxy had stopped its rotation. River couldn’t tell who was holding the other up more, or if the drops of water rolling down her face were tears or sea water. Both she and Din teetered unsteadily against each other, knees knocking and buckling beneath the waves.

“Are you sure?” she asked. Her question sounded as breathless as she felt.

“Please,” he urged, barely audible. “I want you to see me.”

Slowly, like the water sliding away to reveal his reflection, River turned towards Din. She kept her eyes low, trained on the helmet still held between her hands. She stared again into the dark visor, its arcing T shape a familiar comfort despite its harsh lines and stark anonymity. She remembered the first time she saw him, when he’d plucked her from the isolated refuge she’d created on Horuz. She remembered how scared she’d been, so terrified to be returned to the terror of her old life.

She remembered how her fear gave way to a blind trust - remembered how she had quickly looked past the armored shell to see this Mandalorian’s swollen, tender heart beat rapturously, searching for justice, for comfort, for belonging.

“River,” he said quietly. “ _Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum.”_

Her eyes drew upwards, wide and wondrous in their timidity. The lines of his neck were the same as she’d memorized, and as she looked higher and higher, she was given the most precious treat.

His smile.

There in the dark waves, surrounded by nothing but peace and glittering starlight, Din Djarin looked into River’s eyes and smiled. They drew closer together as she eagerly catalogued every finite detail of his face, mapping his scars, the hook of his nose, his peppery patches of facial hair, the gentle slope of high cheekbones, the angular slice of his jaw.

“What does that mean?” she finally had the wherewithal to ask.

Din took the helmet from her hands and wrapped her into a tight embrace. She felt weightless in his arms, suspended several inches over the soft sand.

“It means, _I hold you in my heart forever.”_

Forever. Her cheeks burned bright and hot as he murmured the words against the top of her head. She nuzzled into his neck and grazed the damp skin with her lips.

“Forever, huh?” she sighed blissfully. “Big word.”

Din chuckled low against her, its bassy rumble warming her chest from the inside out. He squeezed her tightly and drew in a breath to say something, but held it tightly at the top instead, as if he couldn’t land on the right response. His long exhale dropped them another inch deeper into the water.

“Come on,” he said warmly. “Let’s dry off.”

“Wait.”

River wrapped her hands around his biceps, holding him in place firmly as she closed the distance between their mouths. She took her time, inching her hands up from his arms to trace up his neck and touch everything she’d just seen.

Din felt dizzy. He hadn’t looked into another human’s eyes without a tinted heads-up display in decades. He was nervous, absolutely, but was shocked at how _less_ nerve-wracking the entire reveal had been.

It was because it was _her_. It was River, who had seen the parts of his soul that no one else had.

Their lips parted as they both broke into giddy smiles.

“Okay,” she giggled, pulling back to take him in once more. They beamed at each other, brighter than the moons above. “Let’s dry off.”

Din held the helmet over the water the whole swim back, his fist thrust high up in the air as if celebrating the grandest victory.

———

Watercolor splashes of morning sun had begun to creep into the sailboat’s passenger cabin. From his place between her open legs, Din reached up to trace a rectangular patch of magenta light splayed across River’s abdomen. He watched the muscles beneath her skin jump as he ghosted his fingertips across the soft expanse of her belly.

She didn’t think she’d ever tire of this view. Through heavy eyelids, River watched as Din lazily feasted on her, licking broad, slow stripes everywhere he could reach.

“We have to get up soon,” she remarked wearily, twisting his wavy hair between her fingers.

Din bit down on her inner thigh in protest, making her gasp and arch against the blankets.

“Not yet,” he mumbled, voice hoarse with exhaustion.

They’d been up all night, losing themselves in each other over and over again. River couldn’t count of the number of times they’d both slumped back onto the mattress, spent and satisfied, _swearing_ they’d go to sleep, only to let a kiss linger too long and forget that promise.

“Kid’s gonna be up any minute,” she murmured, sighing back into the pillow as Din sealed his lips over her clit. He sucked it gently, tapping it lightly with the tip of his tongue.

“Fuck—” she broke off into a muffled whine. “You're so good at that.”

Din grunted between her legs, cocky and proud. She could feel his mouth fighting a smile as he continued to work at her pearl. He slid his right arm out from under her hip and teased her entrance with two fingers.

She’s soaked, drenching the bed beneath her with their combined juices. Everything below deck was hot and wet, the air itself thick with their sweat and heavy breathing. He slid into her, pushing and pulling with a slow and deep pace.

“Think you’ve got one more?” he asked, keeping up the steady rhythm of his fingers.

River whimpered ahead of him. She’d already come so many times that she lost count.

“Tell me what you need, River.”

Fuck, hearing him say something like that, muffled and dark from his place between her legs, made her hips burn like glowing coals.

“Go faster,” she breathed, concentrating on all the sensations.

Din followed her instructions, thrusting his thick fingers all the way into her. The sound of her squeezing around him was obscene and spurred him ahead. His tongue joined the dance, flicking across her oversensitive bus in a feather-light contrast to his strong hand.

She felt bad for closing her eyes. She’d waited so long to see him - to know exactly how he’d watch her as she came - but after a night like theirs, some things felt impossible.

She fought it as long as she could, picking her neck up off the bed to watch him lave at her. The muscles along her abdomen clenched and stuttered as she approached her peak yet again, so pleasantly sore from hours of taking and giving.

“That’s it,” Din muttered between strokes of his tongue. “Can feel you, sweet girl.”

River let her head drop back against the pillows, feeling herself go slightly cross-eyed as it all crested up inside of her. When she came, Din groaned into her folds, opening his mouth wide to let her rock her hips along his tongue however she needed. He kept his fingers inside, their motions stunted from her tight clench.

As she came down from it, Din placed light kisses along her outer lips, trailing up and away towards her knee.

“You break out in the most beautiful goosebumps when you come like that,” he marveled, running his fingertips along her opposite leg. “Like stars in the black.”

River huffed a laugh and tugged at his hair, urging him back up to lay with her.

“Since when are you a poet?” she asked hazily. Din tucked her up against his chest, her hair plastering in damp sections across her forehead and his shoulder.

They laid there, quiet and still for several moments, looking into each other’s eyes.

A sudden clatter rang out from the ship’s galley.

“Shit,” Din muttered. “Kid’s awake.”

A second clang sounded beyond the door, followed by a squeaky yelp. Din unfolded himself from River and picked up his shorts off the floor, shaking them out and pulling them on with a yawn.

“Sounds dangerous out there,” she joked, throwing him a wink. River climbed out of bed on shaky knees, wincing as she collected her breezy nightdress.

“You gonna make it?” Din joked back. He looked so smugly proud, seeing her dress herself and walk around the end of the bed like a newborn womp rat.

“Yep,” she quipped. “Just sea legs.”

Din flashed a crooked grin. “Sure.”

He made his way towards the cabin door, only to be stopped short of the lock by River’s hand shooting out to block it. He quirked an eyebrow at her.

River looked nervous, her forehead crinkled up into tight lines.

“Din — your helmet,” she reminded him.

He exhaled a happy sigh and turned to her, cradling her jaw in both of his hands.

“ _Meshla_ ,” he whispered. “I already showed him.”

River’s eyes blew wide, darting across Din’s face. 

“Don’t be upset,” he said quietly.

“I’m not,” she murmured back, drawing her hands up to circle around his wrists. “But — when?”

“A couple weeks ago,” he softly admitted. “When we made our stop on Nevarro. I wanted it to be special for him. For me and him.”

River nodded, already feeling warm tears well up along her bottom row of lashes. She didn’t think it was possible for her heart to swell even larger with love for them both.

“I wanted it to be special for us, too,” he said, tipping her forehead to his lips.

“It was,” she whispered. “It is.”

Din smiled and drew her head back to look at her again - one last private glance before they moved into the easy flow of the day, together as one found family.

The kid impatiently babbled on the other side of the door, eager for breakfast and attention. River and Din chuckled as they parted, walking through the door together to join the child inside the bright, warm kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took forever! I wanted to get it right, and I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> If you like my writing, I’ve been regularly updating a new post-season two slow burn called “Light in the Shadows,” featuring Din and you, dear reader, as a New Republic intelligence agent.


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